Dance And Sing

It irks me terribly when someone upsets the natural rhythm
of my sentences when I write a translation, it is a given that
one should say ‘aesthetically pleasing’ as the rhythm is just
right; then grammar-conscious pedantic translators change
it to ‘pleasing aesthetically’

Their insistence on messing up the rhythm so the tongue
falters as lines run on drives me wild with frustration, then
they insist I should reread the unmusical text lacking all
beauty as jargon and grammar rules preclude all use of
galloping rhythm and metre

It feels like they are plunging a knife in my heart when they
destroy the music in words and lines; no need for rhymes
which are infantile, my only dream is speed - cascading
breathlessly until reaching a marvellous end, an
unexpected conclusion

Why do we have to live life in an assembly line of dead
words without the sound of music filling the ears; I accept
being Not Fully Functional if meeting that requirement
means dying inside – I am still too passionate, words
always dance and sing in my heart!

poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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