Chopin: Homework 7-5-18
Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2018 4:04 pm
Poetry and tragedy and music, beauty, mirth
were there within the ether when the ‘bang’ spewed forth our earth.
Mankind rose to harness every aspect of his race,
his fate to set the timeline and his heart to set the pace.
Though primitive that tribal beat through drums and warbling cries,
imbue the music of today no matter what its guise.
The songs my mother taught me as I sat beside her knee,
were in that fledgling sunrise as it rose ore ancient sea.
So scrambled a cacophony, man sought to arbitrate –
to seize the mantra of the world, to tame and orchestrate.
Genii through history stripped nature to its core
and gave it to the world to play from closely written score.
I close my eyes and think of one – a pianist of note,
who added little droplets of pure radiance when he wrote.
A virtuoso tormented throughout his earthly reign,
his music full of passion written from a place of pain.
His fingers all afire as they danced across the keys,
Chopin – the romantic and to my mind prince of these.
His music is so perfect, although he had many faults -
I dream throughout his nocturnes and sway through every waltz.
His preludes and sonatas when performed earn every clap!
The polka-like Mazurka really sets my feet to tap.
His music stands the test of time, through every passing age,
and I would throw him roses , if I could, upon his stage.
were there within the ether when the ‘bang’ spewed forth our earth.
Mankind rose to harness every aspect of his race,
his fate to set the timeline and his heart to set the pace.
Though primitive that tribal beat through drums and warbling cries,
imbue the music of today no matter what its guise.
The songs my mother taught me as I sat beside her knee,
were in that fledgling sunrise as it rose ore ancient sea.
So scrambled a cacophony, man sought to arbitrate –
to seize the mantra of the world, to tame and orchestrate.
Genii through history stripped nature to its core
and gave it to the world to play from closely written score.
I close my eyes and think of one – a pianist of note,
who added little droplets of pure radiance when he wrote.
A virtuoso tormented throughout his earthly reign,
his music full of passion written from a place of pain.
His fingers all afire as they danced across the keys,
Chopin – the romantic and to my mind prince of these.
His music is so perfect, although he had many faults -
I dream throughout his nocturnes and sway through every waltz.
His preludes and sonatas when performed earn every clap!
The polka-like Mazurka really sets my feet to tap.
His music stands the test of time, through every passing age,
and I would throw him roses , if I could, upon his stage.