50- Erhu- 2-6-2007

  

Picture of an erhu 

Erhu 

In the hands of a master, 
The erhu sings its song; 
A melody of ancient echoes, 
That's been cherished so long. 

  

With just two silk strings, 
And a bow that gently glides, 
The erhu's voice emerges, 
Guided by skilled hands that glide. 

  

Its haunting, melancholy tones, 
Speak of tales untold; 
A vessel for emotions, 
That words cannot unfold. 

  

From the depths of its wooden body, 
A soulful sound takes flight, 
Filling the air with passion, 
In the stillness of the night. 

  

With each stroke of the bow, 
A story is brought to life, 
A symphony of emotions, 
That cuts through any strife. 

  

Oh, erhu, sweet instrument, 
Your music touches the heart, 
A timeless connection, 
That transcends every part. 

  

So let us listen attentively, 
To the erhu's gentle plea, 
And let its ethereal notes, 
Take us to a place of harmony. 

(2/6/2007)