Like the air that orchestrates chimes
Or rides on the waves of a cymbal
Beneath its surface; there is rhythm
To beat at the air to nurture a wind
To echo the blows that are nimble
Beneath the gesture; there is rhythm
But the air that gives life to the gesture
Is a gesture unto itself; seeking wind,
Direction, and pulse; there... is rhythm
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem