Rocking the landscape, desert animals stopping to seek the
music, wondering just exactly what it is and why, playing
in the front yard of this desert.
Having such a great time, never wanting to sleep, just con-
tinue writing hour after hour, no time like the present,
thinking and writing, nothing standing in the way of an at-
mosphere of tranquility being formed through melodies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem