Rhythms being confused at times in a musician's mind, doing
it anyway, longing to be able to produce each rhythms from
within intellect as it continues to sashay through life.
Traveling along patterns and designs being lit in the dark-
ness by neurons and synapses that constantly are opened in
every endeavor that this poet begins to write along with music.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem