Lightly touching thoughts lying around,
giving them sight to blend in with Chopin's
music listening in.
Creating majestic magical tones in rapid
succession, qualifying existential
movements with rhythmic insistence.
Involving gradients of life's sorrows in
between ideals being written down while
forming idealic situations with delicate
precision, giving additional beauty free
rein to become what it will.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem