The music He left

(2485)  Bansharii bajale balo na

When the flute plays You don't speak, what's the sense?
For self-work, by greed-craze-fear-and-shame I had been
Rendered careless.

I stay waiting, ear to ground, mental sweetness coating;
All the incompleteness, with hues of You alone I'm hiding.
Everything You carried off but left the sound of bamboo reed;
That I can't forget!

That flute gave jolt in every niche of the worldly sphere;
That flute gave rhythm to the mind of everyone living.
Hooked on the tones, I've been engrossed by mode and melody;
Master, that's Your kindness!

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