Marching to different beats as people strut down the dance
floor on their own, feet stepping on every note, taking
them totally into circles of patterns and designs musically.
Exercising and energizing abilities of every dance here
tonight at the Wagon Yard, people finding their way through
motions and movements being given off through musical tones.
Tapping along the sides of our feelings, hoping to find com-
fort along the way, no guarantees at all to prove any of us
were even here tonight.
Music playing, endearing each of us with it's repetition of
chords and notes through the night as we calmly enjoy this
wonderful mode of entertainment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem