Lying in bed at night, the speaker hears her neighbor playing the flute. The notes feel alive to her—they flutter, tap, and collide into surprising chords all around her in the dark. She finds it beautiful and intimate. By day, though, she avoids this same neighbor. He is fat, bald, and absorbed in bread, onions, and copying music, so she hurries past his window and looks at the sky or the well instead. But when night returns and the flute begins, her imagination transforms him. She pictures a young man with gold seals on his watch and a blue coat with silver buttons. The music presses close to her ears and lips, and she falls asleep dreaming. The poem creates a dreamy, almost magical nighttime mood, where sound becomes more real than appearances and ordinary life gives way to longing and romance.
Music — Summary
The neighbour sits in his window and plays the flute. From my bed I can hear him, And the round notes flutter and tap about the room, And hit against each other, Blurring to unexpected chords. It is very beautiful, With the little flute-notes all about me, In the darkness.
In the daytime, The neighbour eats bread and onions with one hand And copies music with the other. He is fat and has a bald head, So I do not look at him, But run quickly past his window. There is always the sky to look at, Or the water in the well!
But when night comes and he plays his flute, I think of him as a young man, With gold seals hanging from his watch, And a blue coat with silver buttons. As I lie in my bed The flute-notes push against my ears and lips, And I go to sleep, dreaming.