Once Upon A Time In America Poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska

Once Upon A Time In America



It was a cold January morning,
all around looked a bit boring.
In Washington’s subway
was the beginning of the ordinary day.
Everyone was in a hurry,
they didn’t want to worry
and didn’t pay attention
to the man I would like here to mention.
The passer-bys didn’t clap
to the man wearing jeans and baseball cap.
They all looked at the clock,
so that to get in time for their work.
It was not a tradition
to listen to a street musician.
That man played his violin.
He didn’t try to win.
He was in his own skin.
Would you like to know?
It was certainly not a show.
But…he played
the most beautiful works of art,
the best musical compositions.
Those sounds could touch anyone’s heart
if they were played in another condition.
Now, I would like to tell.
That man was Joshua Bell,
the famous American violinist.
He didn’t persist on subway’s stage,
He was not in a rage for earning 32 dollars,
playing only 45 minutes.
For a street player it’s a good salary,
considering the USA country.
But…you know what?
There is something I forgot.
Two days before
His salary was insanely more.
For the concert in Boston it was a million
because he was really brilliant.
But…in Washington’s subway
Everyone went away
without hearing his play.
Here is my comment.
It was an experiment
suggested by Washington Post.
I don’t know it’s cost
but I know quite well
we do not hear even the church bell.
We are blind and deaf
And it’s the biggest grief.
One man from that subway’s crowd had said:
He played too loud.

©Larisa Rzhepiahevska
The 5th of March,2011

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