You play the piano chords
In this sonata as well as
In the music of Prokofiev,
Emphatically catching the music's mood.
Fingers seem to stick the keys,
And the keys seem to direct the fingers,
When the thumbs move under them.
You both look like a single being,
In together.
The piano seemingly breaks the sounds.
They penetrate my soul, while
Searching for the necessary words.
I understand the story of your feelings.
Poem by Marieta Maglas
Dedicated to Richard Clayderman.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a good write about the piano chords, when the piano and the player becomes one.