Like mellifluous tears,
The piano's melody,
Rolled from the instrument,
Becoming, all,
That melody could ever be.
Living sound was enhanced,
With such grace,
That musical emotion became
What it had to be,
The warmest embrace of harmony.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is a 1914 baby grand upstairs. When one of my musician friends is over and playing (In the great acoustics of the voluminous chapel) it is the most beautiful sound