"eines" poems - Hello Poetry

Movement no.1 Andante con moto Farewell. I am leaving you with the sweetness and the sadness of every creature on this earth draped over my shoulders as a shroud We rest now before the final struggle looking down upon our lives from a precipice The wind calls up a faint sound a song of healing as resignation So bring forth the dirge let dogs and oboes cue the horns as we embark upon a tender struggle We are whipped back and forth between grief and glory in this life an indifferent life lush with raw power But thankfully at the end of every day there is sleep. Movement no. 2 Im tempo eines gemächlichen Ländlers. Etwas täppisch und sehr derb. Dance returns and goes mad Who could lift a leg that high? Not I. The music careens off the walls in a dissonant minuet of the hours The clenched teeth of each and every minute grind here as if time itself took heel and made a sparkling trace across the pines of this exalted floor of dance. Movement no. 3 Rondo Burleske: allegro assai. Sehr trotzig. A music major's delight. Fugues against fugues. Dense contrapuntal figures and sarcastic counterpoint shouting out from the back of the class. And then just love confused perhaps but real love indeed. Movement no. 4 Sehr langsam und noch zurüclhaltend The violin noblest of instruments takes its place In bitter sorrow life soon lost the fruit of the tree is extinguished the promise of green days burned by drought All is withheld. There is peace at the end but no joy the abyss is only silence and a taut string connecting us to eternity.

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Jul 14, 2016

Jul 14, 2016 at 10:47 PM UTC

jeff-stier

Mahler's Ninth Symphony

Movement no.1 Andante con moto Farewell. I am leaving you with the sweetness and the sadness of every creature on this earth draped over my shoulders as a shroud We rest now before the final struggle looking down upon our lives from a precipice The wind calls up a faint sound a song of healing as resignation So bring forth the dirge let dogs and oboes cue the horns as we embark upon a tender struggle We are whipped back and forth between grief and glory in this life an indifferent life lush with raw power But thankfully at the end of every day there is sleep. Movement no. 2 Im tempo eines gemächlichen Ländlers. Etwas täppisch und sehr derb. Dance returns and goes mad Who could lift a leg that high? Not I. The music careens off the walls in a dissonant minuet of the hours The clenched teeth of each and every minute grind here as if time itself took heel and made a sparkling trace across the pines of this exalted floor of dance. Movement no. 3 Rondo Burleske: allegro assai. Sehr trotzig. A music major's delight. Fugues against fugues. Dense contrapuntal figures and sarcastic counterpoint shouting out from the back of the class. And then just love confused perhaps but real love indeed. Movement no. 4 Sehr langsam und noch zurüclhaltend The violin noblest of instruments takes its place In bitter sorrow life soon lost the fruit of the tree is extinguished the promise of green days burned by drought All is withheld. There is peace at the end but no joy the abyss is only silence and a taut string connecting us to eternity.