A heady ecstasy

(2529)  Banshiite kareche utala

Something in a flute has made eager–
Heeds not time, proper or improper.
In a perfect fifth, the flute plays,
Holding on to me by name;
Lonesome I race, disregarding shyness.

On work the mind does not remain;
Always I hear that flute play–
It's ruinous and dulcet.

I think that I won't pay attention–
I'll respond no longer.
As much as it may call to me,
Though hearing I won't listen.
But not to listen I'm not able;
Upon thinking that, in shame I cringe;
You all tell me: What's this burning torment?

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