Late this night

Late this night the electric lamps flickered out, I am sitting on the window sill gazing through the window. The calm moonlight falling over the silent earth making me remember my distant past of agrarian life, the days where there were no electric lamps but kerosene lamps shone. Oh ,flutist of the distant agrarian landscape then, please play your flute in this solitary moment as during those days. Today there is no hey stack heap in the courtyard as in the long past, nor the thatched-roof stable where cattle ruminate and rest occasionally wagging their tails Oh, flutist,play your melody from the distant horizon echoing the ancient tune.