The bamboo whispers to the silent sky,
The ancient flute breathes out a gentle sigh.
The mist is floating over mountains high,
As weary thoughts and heavy shadows die.

The erhu sings of rivers deep and long,
The guzheng chimes its slow, eternal song.
A quiet peace where busy minds belong,
To rest the soul and make the spirit strong.

The water flows, the world is far away,
In zen and calm, the light begins to play.
The heart is clear, no longer led astray,
As midnight turns into a peaceful day.