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(Song 2529) |
(Changed the base/rough translation) |
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</poem> | </poem> | ||
| <poem> | | <poem> | ||
O Lord, Your flute sound makes me restless | |||
day in and day out, heedless of time. | |||
The flute | The flute sounds in high pitch, calling me by name | ||
and I rush alone forgetting all shyness. | |||
My mind gets detached from job, | |||
My mind | always listening to the melody of flute, | ||
which creates utter ruin. | |||
I | I plan that I would not pay attention | ||
No matter how | and respond to that any more. | ||
No matter how ardent be the call, | |||
But | I would feign deafness. | ||
But I cannot help hearing | |||
and thinking of that I die with shyness. | |||
You tell what an agony is this. | |||
</poem> | </poem> | ||
|} | |} |