Under the moonlight summers,
after a hard day's work,
old men from the country side
are singing the folk songs,
beating their drums and
blowing their trumphets,
dancing around the forest fire!
I can hear the ballads
from the east side
carried by the winds
without a note messed up
in the silent nights,
with the belly dancers,
swinging round and round!
Slow and sweet from memories,
echoing from my heart beats,
I hear a guitar and mouthpiece,
swinging with his tone,
'Blowing in the Wind',
that 'Dylan is for ever',
though lands and ages apart,
between me and him!
'No politics please',
says the breezy air,
whispering to all,
like a whistle blower,
to forget all the troubles,
for we are not just alone,
and Bob too is with us!
Such a noble heart bob's is,
that he sang from his heart,
winning him a Nobel prize,
reminding us all that,
'The Times they are A-Changin',
but 'Dylan is for ever'!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem