Moon And Music A Letter To Fabrizio Poem by Daniel Brick
Moon And Music A Letter To Fabrizio
I
Last night, a mild evening in early October,
while listening to Shostakovich's second
Cello Concerto, I became very slowly
aware of two moons. One was the familiar Moon
which looms or dangles or floats in solitary
splendor over my Twin Cities, and splashes
a white carpet across the lawn beneath my balcony.
This must surely be the Moon of My Inspiration
because month after month it presides over
my creation of poems. Let me pause,
as my heart stretches forth
in gratitude for that inspiration...
The other Moon rose invisibly
casting its transparent light
over the Russian's music,
with its alternating eloquence
and sarcasm.The music cast its spell
over Moon and me, and in our characteristic ways,
we were shining in the sheer joy of our lives
under the sway of two kinds of moonlight.
My soul, ever in readiness for such a summons,
joined Music and Moonlight, all three blended
into one being, completely enclosed
in the perfection of the moment, as if time
had harmonized its components into a single frame.
Let me pause again, as my mind stretches forth
in gratitude for this truth...
II
In the early morning light,
I gaze over the leaf-strewn lawn
that was shrouded in moon-white
just four hours ago. I see a skeleton
of branches in the tree to my left,
having already lost half of its leaves.
But to my right another tree still
retains its leaves in their green glory.
A carillon of bird songs dispels the silence
of night, and I breathe inside the health
of both autumn air and autumn music. This is
the Over-Much of beauty that is mine
to give. Take your fill of it, Fabrizio,
and let its mellow harmony seep into your reveries.
Your translation of beauty is flawless, and I will borrow Judith's word, breathtaking, for we share the same response.
Moon and music both create a surreal atmosphere. A lovely letter to a friend, full of poetry n music. A keen observation of Nature shows us how much poetry n music there is in Nature too. Sterling ink.
what a strange.. last night I spent almost half an hour looking at the sky.. and for a while I was lost into ''die Scheibe des Monds'' - the disk of the moon [as in Liza's quote from Rilke's 'Elegie an Marina Tsvetaeva' - if I remember correctly the moon reference is also in one of his letter to Marina (**) ] - trying to put down a few more lines of a long poem I'm writing these days.. ma non potevo immaginare che anche tu avresti guardato la luna, qualche ora più tardi.. :) = I couldn't imagine that you would have looked at the moon, a few hours later.. :) when listening to Shostakovich's Cello Concerto No.2 - not quite a bright, open heart music, as a whole: it's intimate & introspective but gloomy, especially in it's 1st movement.. (**) BTW, that letter was written by Rilke 90 years ago -Spring 1926- only some 6 months before his demise.. ''German have a lot about loneliness, they adore it.'', Liza says. Yes, agree. And maybe I have some of such German genes in me.. since I love solitude, too.. - I remember that you wrote, ''I have a talent for solitude'' - well, I'm very much talented myself in this field.. :) Reading your beautiful poem, some lines of a Hesse’s very short poem have come to my mind.. here it is, copied from PH, with my Italian translation) Across The Fields - Poem by Hermann Hesse Across the sky, the clouds move, Across the fields, the wind, Across the fields the lost child Of my mother wanders. Across the street, leaves blow, Across the trees, birds cry - Across the mountains, far away, My home must be. Italian translation: Attraverso il cielo, scorrono le nuvole, Attraverso i campi, il vento, Per i campi il bambino smarritto Di mia madre si aggira. Da una parte all'altra della strada svolazzano foglie, Da un albero all'altro, le grida degli uccelli - Oltre le montagne, lontano, Deve esserci la mia casa.. - - BTW, I'm listening to Bach's Brandenburg Concertos (n.2 is playing at this very moment) : much and much 'brighter' than Shostakovich's Cello Concerto No.2... ;)
it reminds me of twilight elegy of Rilke for Marina. Moon, two halves, two bushes. unity, walking. but Rilke ends with Einsam (lonely) gang. German have a lot about lonelyness, they adore it. Goethe too. Wir in das Kreisen bezogen füllten zum Ganzen uns an wie die Scheibe des Monds. Auch in abnehmender Frist, auch in den Wochen der Wendung niemand verhülfe uns je wieder zum Vollsein, als der einsame eigene Gang über der schlaflosen Landschaft.
______________________ lovely! ______________________ '' [..] Wir in das Kreisen bezogen füllten zum Ganzen uns an wie die Scheibe des Monds. Auch in abnehmender Frist, auch in den Wochen der Wendung niemand verhülfe uns je wieder zum Vollsein, als der einsame eigene Gang über der schlaflosen Landschaft. '' [from Rilke's 'Elegie an Marina Zwetajewa' (M. Tsvetaeva) ] - ENGLISH: '' [..] We, drawn into the circle, filled ourselves out to the whole, like the disk of the moon. Even in the waning phase, even in the weeks of changing, no one could ever again help us to fullness, except our own solitary course over the sleepless landscape. ''
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 4:24:28 AM # 1.0.0.1119
You Daniel under two, moonlights competiting with each other. Great poem to read, before reading I thought it was a long poem but as I got through it short as Haiku. Thanks again for sharing and I see that, the moon inspires a great number of poet, because I have my poem titled as The moon tale I hope you'll have a look at it.