The ivories' sleeping is like a lonely black piano.
Beautiful, small girl quietly fight a dusty, misty bench.
Hello, old friend. Did you miss me?
Ah, life!
Running loudly like an old hammer.
Banging hard on the ivories.
God, action!
Piano keys are only black and white,
But sound like blue birds singing,
On a bright morning's day.
Oh! No!
Where are the noisy keys?
Never love a broken string.
Exhaustion, noise, and love.
Never fight a hammer.
Lord, anger!
Piano, why are you angry with me?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Somehow I see this as titled JAZZ. The assonance comes through. Read mine - Pole Vaulting - Adeline