Lord Krishna plays his transcendental flute
The music is tmeless, the melody is absolute
Time stands still, moments stop ticking
The cow and lively calves stop frolicking

The blowing winds srop still
The flowing waters stand still
The trees pause in their lazy undulation
The birds and beasts are stunned into silence

The gopis run distraught, hither and thither
Knowing not which winds bear the music hither
They lose sense of themselves
The time, their clothing, and everything eles

Some stop breastfeeding their babies
Some stop serving their families
Some stop looking after their children
They cease all activites, of a sudden

Why are the gopis so agitated?
Why are their bodies so dissipated?
Why are their dresses in disarray?
In the midst of their working day

Are the melodies coming in from the east?
From the green vales of Govardhana, sunkissed
Or are they wafting in from the west?
The lush meadows on the Yamuna’s crest

In everyone’s breast there is excitement
A vague uneasiness, an underlined ferment
The birds stop chirping, with heads cocked
The cows and the deer listen, jaws locked

His tunes waft through the entire creation
Filling the air with a divine vibration
They capture our minds and our hearts in full
How else can one explain this intense pull?

What transcendental pleasure does the Lord receive?
What ecstatic love does He wish to give?
The wonder of creation, the universe’s magnificense
The infinite variety of life, the goodness of providence

Are all hidden the Lord’s flute
In no small measure, in total absolute
The Lord sends forth His love to each and every creature
Without bias or favor, that is His special feature

He is the musician unequalled, par excellence
The greatest composer, unequalled in eminence
The Lord is the Pied Piper of the entire creation
The master of divine pleasure and recreation?