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