Your dance has a fight in the air,
Inside we wear our shoes with a flair;
The costume of colours contained in our minds
Is special as a trophy and it grinds.
The dancing is supreme when enjoyed
By the breath and we are not annoyed.
The dancing is solidly built from lessons,
The reality of costumes is upon us like passions.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem