Forest. And Chopin Poem by Liza Sud
Forest. And Chopin
Forest. And Chopin
Is beating in brain
In re-mi-sol interval.
As if from life remained
Only the light of love
And these of soul breakdowns.
Seems for a moment that sounds –
That is the soul itself.
Strange that I am in body.
And that I’m here – is strange.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: music
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5/6/2024 8:17:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This is like the poems of Marie Wesendonk It is heavy with human consciousness, it is sad with the common sadness of being human. And it is truthful. Your poetry speaks with many voices. Chopin did seem like a stranger on earth, too sensitive and refined for worldly life. The second stanza especially his nobility in a corrupt world.