Lonely echoes follow me across heated deserts,
wetting my brow as I contend with anxious moments,
creating dreaded fear.
Wallowing in mires of past ages keeps me from
attaining great scores of music as I play again,
quietly in mind blinks, showing small aspects of
my soul to those who happen to be looking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem