Opening doors,
forming lines to insides of memory's lanes,
moving back and forth,
including every motion and movement.
Touching rhythms with fast moving tones,
bringing me into elevated elevators on tops
of inner buildings - escaping the drudgery of
life's pastimes.
Culminating in deaths' grasp of meaning and
purpose, diving deeply into music's realms.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem