His tunes were so simple the coachmen could sing it,
but some were so complex they thought he was mad,
though they were spontaneous he never would wing it;
yet nothing was scratched out on Mozart’s scratch pad.
Since his music was lovely, he went out of fashion,
like Raphael thought to be far too naïve;
rediscovered as Bach was by Mendlessohn, passion
as great as St. Matthew’s deserved its reprieve.
In 1784, after Mozart left Salzburg to work in Vienna in 1784 he wrote six extraordinary piano concertos and wrote to his father Leopold that he was writing tunes that were so simple coachmen could sing it although some people thought he was mad.
5/21/06
What a bouncing little poem, Gersh! Catchy stuff. Remind me what your book's going to be called and what it's about? I wanted to tell them about it yesterday in our little PH gathering here in London. Love, Gina.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice poem, has humor too