The violins joining the trumpet in Il Silenzio
draw long, incandescent lines of shimmering
notes like bubbly white lace around the wrists
and necks of old-fashioned Victorians, I taste
sweet delight in my mouth while my soul vibrates
in alignment with this unearthly music switching
on magic lanterns in the wasteland of my mind…
A mind that can absorb and appreciate and accomodate the melodious nuances you speak of, becomes melodious and beautiful as well, in it's ability to appreciate. references to a wasteland, may be an ode, or deference to the incoming beauty, but even in a wasteland, the power is in the land. (But I know not of what I speak) Thanks for sharing, I enjoyed your enjoyment!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Even I get confused about that'waste land'....but I can thoroughly enjoy the lilt of music there...indeed enjoyable...thank you