I was inspired by my Cypriot friend to write this for my first book, he loves to dance, he is exhausting to watch. In Cyprus the men are not shy and love to dance, quite often there will be large groups laughing and dancing together. The Bouzouki is a traditional string instrument.
Arms outstretched you glide
Alight, your face
A smile, friendly, wide
Agile, gathering pace
Your soft foot dances
Music absorbs you
It entrances
The Bouzouki calls
Handclapping fast paced music falls
On warm evening air it flows
Where it takes you, no one knows
It lifts your spirit high
The music stops. You sigh
The moment is gone, for more you hunger
I remember, it felt like that when I was younger
Dear village child, dance while you can
For someday like me you’ll be a man
Dance, carefree with no inhibition
Dance the dance of Cyprus tradition
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