The lights flash across the stage
And from the left he enters and waves
The crowd stands and screams his name
He nods his head and a smile touches his lips
He turns to the band and gives the sign
The music starts and he comes alive
His fingers fly up the neck of his guitar
And you can tell he is home
Moving to the mic, he looks down at the floor
He closes his eyes and from deep within
Comes the voice we've all been waiting for
The music has begun
Mesmerized we begin to sway
Our attention never waivering
Minds attuned to the story his baritone weaves
And captured by the wonder it instills
As you watch him closely you understand
This man gives his music a part of his soul
He's as real as the sunshine on the lake
And inside, he's as beautiful as the dawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice use of detail. However, I would like a word choice that is a little less predictable. For example, the third line of the next-to-last-stanza's image of weaving a story is 'predictable.' The third line of the final stanza 'real as the sunshine on the lake' is an unpredictable and interesting image - one that I truly enjoy mulling over. It is so open to multiple meaning.