In the night when light is cleared;
The wind whispered in the roaring ear;
That makes bamboo weak in vain;
Like innocent feels that pain;
Music is the magic word;
Objecting the angels’ creed;
Annoying the emerald fade;
In the shadow of the frivolous wind.
Sound is the magic shrewd;
Dazzling the royal road;
Stealing the hiding mind;
In the hands of the drowning wind.
In the middle of the turning breathe;
Shaking the turtle’s strength;
Obeying the heart’s length.
In the eyes of the tiger wind.