Set towards the back of the stage, an unassuming
guitar player sits, playing to his heart's content.
Enjoying the feel of his fingers as they lovingly
caress strings, moving up and down the frets,
strumming with talented mind and spirit.
Quitarily shining in the lime light as he tries to
stay in the background, tapping his foot to the
rhythm of his life.
An indescribable joy in his life every time he picks
up his guitar to play, attaching rhythm to his
meaning and being eternally.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem