The Poem Sits at Home and Envies as It Celebrates Music
Translation's not required—music
sings itself complete and comprehensible
without grammatical intervention.
It flutters and glides above
linguistic tyrannies and the map's
deliberate colors, unfettered as equations,
and lets guitar strings speak with grace
in the absence of oboes.
sings itself complete and comprehensible
without grammatical intervention.
It flutters and glides above
linguistic tyrannies and the map's
deliberate colors, unfettered as equations,
and lets guitar strings speak with grace
in the absence of oboes.
True.
Yeah, but actually learning to play, interpret and perform music-that's the hard part.
This makes me think in imaginative ways. Enjoyed very much.
"and lets guitar strings speak with grace
in the absence of oboes."
Wonderful. *
Well, you know, the grass is always greener... What would the musician's retort be? *
Poor poem. As Amanda says, easier to master, harder to learn to play. *
Meaning: music is harder to learn, and easier to listen.
Well said!
Expressed so beautifully.*
Thank you, Letitia, Amanda, Paul, Jake, Steve, Gloria, Neil, and Brenda for the kind commentary.
Musicians are just lazy.*
- in which he proves music to be the superior art to literature - Something we've suspected all along. *
thanks very much, gary and sam.
Oh yeah, well, wait until the poem meets the painting. One of them is worth 1,000 words, you know.
*
Thanks, Gita.