Late this night
Electric lights gone
I am sitting at the window sill 
Looking out
At the calm moonlight 
Falling over the silent  earth.
Oh! Flutist
Now play your flute.
Yet there is no haystack heap 
At the courtyard
Nor the thatch roof stable
Where ruminating
Waging their tales intermittently
The cattle resting.
But oh, flutist,
Play your flute
From the distant horizon
To the tune
Long ago I heard.