A Busker in Chester

A busker in chester
His name is ED Alleyne
The Wind flows like an unknown angel
and blows his hair in a misty picture
while he plays upon his electric violin
standing alone in the corner

The passerby are boisterous and multifarious
someone hurries on with no heed
someone halts in a circle
and someone throws a coin
The vendors are selling foods and drinks
while shiny clothes and fragrant perfumes are on sale next door
But he might fade everything,with his plaintive melody overflowing in the air
He weaves the notes in a sequence of heaven,and spreads them abroad
as if nothing exists around,and nothing catches its steps in pace
The world is tumultuous but silent

Now It flies like a vagrant bird
crossing the flowery meadow
boating in the shallow ford
roaming in the rustling grove
and vanishing into the vague distance
He is floating in the paradise
while others are not concerned

And nearby there is a bridge
across a chattering river
a lady gazes upon the horizon
waiting for someone showing up
But from the square comes the melody she has never heard before
and she knows not how to forget,like the figure in her mind

In a corner of chester
A busker plays upon his violin
And the world is not concerned beside