Circular music chasing rhythms around in deserts and forests of nature, pleasant tones carrying peace into the twilight, accentuating contemplation on star-lit nights.
Billowing softly in volumes of musical rhythms streaming across the sky, unlimited and roaming in rhythms as they play melodies of another time somewhere far away.
Intellect swaying in melodies of jazz, slowing down, getting sleepy, wanting to stay awake and write, leaving episodes on tables of yesterday.
Always hoping they'll be picked up someday, while hurling topics inside of folds of clouds as they drift by in the atmosphere above.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem