The tongues

There is something of wonder

In these sounds that we make,

That cross oceans and borders

Histories alive in their wake.

But to know every tongue

Of all of these lands,

Would ruin the mystique

Of the distant 'ohs' and 'ands'.

For to listen so intently

As to try to translate,

Seems a shame just to focus

On a means to partake.

When instead it is magical

To simply recall,

The inflections and twists

The rhythm of the rise and the fall.