Whispers Beneath the Bamboo Moon
Beneath the mist, the silent waters gleam,
The distant mountains fade into a dream.
A bamboo flute releases notes of rain,
And drifting clouds return to hills again.
The old stone bridge lies quiet in the blue,
While silver drops fall softly, one by two.
A lonely player breathes a tender tune,
His melody awakens with the moon.
No restless heart can hurry through this place,
The river moves with calm and patient grace.
The wind bends low among the ancient trees,
And carries sorrow gently with the breeze.
If life is but a wandering stream at night,
Let music be the lantern giving light.