The Universal Language


In my own language

I could write you an epic poem to express my unique style of obsession

But to you it would just be noise, the ugly tone-deaf song of the English.

Words flow from your lips like pure honey

But never will I know what they taste like really

For in your language I am a bird with clipped wings

A ship with no sails

A pen empty of ink.

When you take out your guitar

Your fingers speak louder than language

Speaking harmony, making the sun rise and the clouds rain tears of joy

And I know just what you mean

So I take out my violin

And join the conversation.

Two wooden bodies,

Two silver sets of strings with voices

Really we speak the same language.


Image credits in order of appearance:

“World Map 1689” by en:Gerard van Schagen – This image is made up of six separate images downloaded from and stitched together.. Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons –

By Pdpics (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons


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