Riding enduring waves of instrumental voices, listening to
their many coded messages as they play for me alone it
seems.
Carefully tending beauty as it grows and blossoms tenderly
the more I listen to this Indian music.
Fortunate to be able to be a part of literate history in a
scientific mode and avenue of intellect.
Traveling down byways on outskirts of imagination, taking
along the benefit of a lasting effect on this brain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem