Track 1 (Love me tender, love me true)
The gramophone begins to spin
And a tinny rendition of something classical
(Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 14, in C sharp minor)
Wafts through the air.
Even filtered through the gramophone, it retains its slowness, its movement-
It moves some who listen to it to tears. I always thought it was strange
How the ancient composers
(those who didn’t know any latin, at least)
couldn’t express themselves
Through lyrics, and chose to say all
In their melodies instead. The saying:
“A picture tells a thousand words”
Is as much true for the great symphonies
As any work of paint and canvas.
Music can paint pictures, move us as easily as the wind
Even when words fail.
My mum played songs like this for me
When I was a child- she heard it
“Strengthened the mind and promoted curiosity and creativity”-
And so maybe Beethoven was the real author
For this poem!-
Music has this way of slipping into our lives
And working its magic, placing its gentle hands
Where we don’t expect.
