Slowly getting started, drums setting the pace, other musicians
a step behind, sounding alright, but this poet knowing what's
happening where many others may never notice.
Loving music so intrinsically, always wanting it in sync while
being played; human beings are prone to failure at times through
their lives, so it's put up with, although not very acceptable.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem