Deeply involved in terpsichore,
I am aglow, but oh no, not he.
He's focused, intent on what we do
As we dance our way through Lesson Two.
Astaire reborn? Much too soon to say,
But there is a clue this very day
When we are scheduled for Lesson Three.
I hold out my hands; he looks at me
Then shakes his head in definite "No!"
And off he solos, at last aglow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i realy did not understand this poem, can you help me to?