Rallentanda
Monday, July 26, 2010
Alfred Brendel
The Last of the Greats
Ich bedanke mich herzlich
Swimming through clouds
backstroking breast stroking
darting ballet back and forth
a soloist in a school of fish
rhythmically changing directions
an urging towards light and peace
surging through joy
none of it mattered in the end
all the struggles pain and sacrifice
grooming prodigies grooming dynasties
all the slights and failures
measuring up
measuring up to rigid rules
discarding precious youth
dissolving disregarding time
what did all the cleverness achieve
climbing the pile to the top
Success?
in the end
none of it mattered
just a puff of dust
a floating memory
of a warm hand
an unexpected smile
an act of kindness
humility in greatness
a few soft words
That's what it was
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Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThat is a really lovely poem, which sent me away muttering about the difficulty of following that!
ReplyDeleteThank you.Please do stop that muttering and moaning Viv. You've got to struggle a bit.
ReplyDeleteI note you are up very late...scallywag!
Beautiful site, in words and pictures.
ReplyDeleteTotally nominating you for "One Lovely Blog Award": robotcupcake.wordpress.com
ps Where in the world at you writing from? Not NZ, is it?
ReplyDeleteI stopped muttering, and here it is:-
ReplyDeletehttp://vivinfrance.wordpress.com/2010/07/27/tinnitus-for-rallentanda/
I tend to think that it is only once we can acknowledge the essential uselessnes of life, that we free ourselves to live it. The bedrock is a puff of dust. Then what do we do with it. Where do we go. How do we feel. It is up to each individual to respond.
ReplyDeleteps cupcake
ReplyDelete'I come from the land down under
where the women glow and the men plunder
As long as the memory stays afloat... isn't that what matters...?
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful poem Rall, like the way you end it.
ReplyDeleteRall this is a beautiful poem and I love this line
ReplyDelete'dissolving disregarding time'
Thanks for this prompt!
Pamela
Thank you Uma and Pamela. I am glad my poem gave you pleasure.
ReplyDeleteRall . . your poems always do!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Rall. I kept thinking in the end that the music mattered, the music mattered.
ReplyDelete"A soloist in a school of fish" is a wonderful line. I can relate. Thanks for your work.
~Brenda
I very much appreciate the effort and research you put into this week's poem Brenda.I am always amazed at the high standard of work that is submitted to this site.Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI like how the rhythm seems to build and then dissipate. Your poem is much lovelier and more sophisticated than what I produced this week, but I think in a very small way the themes are complimentary if at opposite poles.
ReplyDeleteAlfred Brendl played the piano "Like a Swiss Banker" That's to say he sat on the stool and played the piano. He didn't try to put on an exhibition of break-dancing at the same time. He never looked as if he was trying to wrestle the instrument to the ground or turn it into firewood. He never tried to make playing the piano into a visual art, like so many of the younger virtuosi do - their antics making them at best distracting and at worst embarrassing to watch. The very worst of these gymnasto-pianists is the grotesque Lang Lang who should have screens put round him - although his sumo wrestling antics can be hilarious to watch. If Nicola Benedetti reads this . . you too, dearie, in spades.
ReplyDeleteLOL...absolutely agree.Quelle surprise to hear from you. Glad you have not forgotten me.I really miss your humour Footesque. I am looking for a muse for the month of April...do you want to volunteer Petal?
ReplyDelete