At An Orchestral Concert Poem by Ananta Madhavan
At An Orchestral Concert
The Conductor, whose baton is silent,
Whose gestures are a kind of mime,
Elicits organized sound, as if
He is himself playing an instrument
Of many tones, timbres and octaves.
One can imagine how,
Even without the orchestra,
An impassioned musician
Can hear the symphony unheard.
The baton then becomes a magic wand
Pouring out the sequent sound for us.
Divinity is music if we learn to listen.
or a melodic label for a brand or a product.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/27/2024 6:57:28 PM # 1.0.0.1119
