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
But Oh, flutist,play your melody
from the distant horizon
echoing the ancient tune.
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