The soft sweet notes flow from the flute,
played by a busker old and gray
He chooses melodies to suit
The folks he knows will pass this way.
His old cloth cap lies at his feet,
already holds a coin or two.
His lilting music bitter sweet
ensures that I will add one too.
The old man breathes new life into
forgotten tunes from long ago
and turns them into something new.
He seems instinctively to know
what kind of music he must play
to fill his hat with coins today
Swell poem and story Ivor! He plays his tunes on busy streets Delighting all the folk he meets A few coins and tips are his reward Enough to pay for room and board! *10*! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You really have formed a picture in my mind with this one Ivor, and a lovely picture it is too. I love the music of the flute, it is very inspiring and light. Great imagery. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX