as you play the piano
the rain outside has not ceased
the notes fall like rain
music is a crying
song
the cries become music
to my ears
there is no sadness that
is sadness per se
because sadness has meaning
it has a purpose
just like every note that
must have a place in this afternoon
sonata
to create that blend of
sweetness and bitterness over a cup
of brewed coffee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem