(a quartet for the Ligeti Requiem, which I heard last night at the SF Symphony)
Moaning through the mist
The pratfallen dead cry out
To warn the living
*******
This is how the dead
Issue warning and mourning
To themselves, the lost
*******
Rumbling from the depths
And rising to the Heavens
This pain, this beauty
*******
(for the woman sitting next to me)
Flip through your program;
There is nothing to explain
Why you won't listen
2 comments:
Very Opera Tattlerish mixed with Tibetan Book of the Dead. Now I want to read your Marta Argerich "piano bursting into spontaneous combustion" piece. I'm still laughing about your fabulous description over the phone.
I'm going to take this opportunity to pay tribute to the Opera Tattler: when I first read her, I thought, My God, it's not just me! It's OK to slam these people! She even has a special section of each review just for that purpose! I was actually kind of jealous I hadn't thought of that first. Of course, it does put the onus on one to be especially well-behaved.
I paid another visist to the Bhutan exhibit at the Asian Art Museum before the concert, which may be why there's a Book of the Dead influence.
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