Staccato and singly beating rhythms counting themselves
down in measures of chords as time marches on.
Following notes and tones, inhaling their sounds within
intellect.
An inspiring innate talent growing exponentially through-
out the years taking moments in stride.
Living each of them with an inherent tide, taking this
mind aside and into poetry constantly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I suppose many people would find it hard to TAKE THIS MIND ASIDE and mysteriously (for them, but for us too) fill it with POETRY. Your first three stanzas describe how this happens through images. So this poem could be a teaching tool. It would involve some analysis, but then the students could write their own poems, that is, they would be writing a Poem of Discovery, discovery of their own interior landscape. the exercise could ease them into Poetry, don't you think?