When the way is long,
You need to sing a song;
A song of rue or joy,
For no one's ears but yours.
If you can find the words
To suit your mood and zest,
You need no proud acclaim
Of ephemeral fame.
Your inner song may be
The lonely listener
To your private trance
In the masque or dance.
You need no proof or disk
To play on microphone.
So as you trudge along,
Sing your languid song.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Pl. see my note above. AM