Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Music :Rythmes of love and spirit/I WISH I COULD SPEAK LIKE MUSIC/

Gabriel's Oboe(Ennio Morricone)-André Rieu

Is it any weakness, pray, to be wrought on by exquisite music?
to feel its wondrous harmonies searching the subtlest windings
of your soul, the delicate fibres of life where no memory can
penetrate, and binding together your whole being, past and present,
in one unspeakable vibration; melting you in one moment with all

the tenderness, all the love, that has been scattered through
the toilsome years, concentrating in one emotion of heroic
courage or resignation all the hard-learned lessons of
self-renouncing sympathy, blending your present joy
with past sorrow, and your present sorrow with all your past joy?

John Vance Cheney

Take of the maiden's and the mother's sigh,
Of childhood's dream, and hope that age doth bless,
Of roses and the south wind's tenderness,
Of fir-tree's shadow, tint of sunset sky,
Of moon on meadow where the stream runs by,
Of lover's kiss, his diffident caress,
Of blue eyes' yellow, brown eyes' darker, tress,

Of echoes from the morning bird on high,
Of passion of all pulses of the Spring,
Of prayer from every death-bed of the Fall,
Of joy and woe that sleep and waking bring,
Of tremor of each blood-beat great and small;
Now, pour into the empty soul each thing,
And let His finger touch that moveth all.

Where Everything Is Music

Don’t worry about saving these songs!
And if one of our instruments breaks,
it doesn’t matter.

We have fallen into the place
where everything is music.

The strumming and the flute notes
rise into the atmosphere,
and even if the whole world’s harp
should burn up, there will still be
hidden instruments playing.

So the candle flickers and goes out.
We have a piece of flint, and a spark.

This singing art is sea foam.
The graceful movements come from a pearl
somewhere on the ocean floor.

Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge
of driftwood along the beach, wanting!

They derive
from a slow and powerful root
that we can’t see.

Stop the words now.
Open the window in the center of your chest,
and let the spirit fly in and out.


I wish I could speak like music.

I wish I could put the swaying splendor
Of the fields into words

So that you could hold Truth
Against your body
And dance.

I am trying the best I can
With this crude brush, the tongue,

To cover you with light.

I wish I could speak like divine music.

I want to give you the sublime rhythms
Of this earth and the sky’s limbs

As they joyously spin and surrender,
Against God’s luminous breath.

Hafiz wants you to hold me
Against your precious

And dance,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...