Voices, when soft music breaks
Vibrates through the molding
Noises, whenever the ears are shocking
Hang beneath the ceiling's flocking.
Notes, whenever the movement's ended
Fade sideways, all up-ended;
And too, the gallerys endless mumbles
Seem as though will never slumber.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another great write from another great writer.. James