An old friend, my violin,
Still lies within it's case,
And at times I take it out
To play and reminisce.
The joy of life it brought to me
As I picked up that precious bow,
And o'er the strings did play the songs,
That were the best to know.
My problems seemed to dwindle,
My thoughts went high above,
When the music flowed so gently,
In tender tonelike love.
There's nothing else can take it's place,
The music of this world,
To bring that special joy of life,
To unloose and to unfurl.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I play the violin...I guess it means more that way