Sung Not Translated

It’s beautiful to watch people being musical.
It’s almost not human, it’s so human.

People come out of themselves, and although
We’re often there, words in the throat, verse in the air,

It’s better for us nearly when the rapture
Can’t attach any meanings to us.

Let us be song a little while, only song,
Even though, yes, we’re ugly words,

Even though we know we bring the rules
Into your thoughts that tempt you to make us mean.

Let every song you’re swaying with be
In an unknown tongue. Let us be song,

So ugly little words can sing along with our hosts,
Can sing, too, and be true, and not lie to you.