His music softly stirs your soul
with piping roll
on whistling flute
that won't lie mute;
but rises up like fountain's spout,
till love trills out
with heady notes
from silken throars
and weaves its spell around and through
the heart of you-
until all calm
lies in your palm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem