Music/Rilke
What are you playing with, son? It goes through the garden.
Like a string of footsteps, like a low command.
What are you playing with, son? Listen, your soul.
Caught in the entanglement of the flute tube.
Why did you seduce her? Say yes loudly
The cell where she felt sorry for herself;
Your vitality is very strong, and you are made up of
I am eager to write more intense sad songs. ——
Quiet her, quiet her soul.
Back to the land of pentium and prosperity,
Life, growth, growth, maturity,
Before you force her to play softly.
Now her wings are weaker:
You are a dreamer who wants to waste flying time.
Until my wings were cut by the song,
She will never fly into my pen again,
When I call her to be happy.
I like a poem very much. There are many poems about music, but most of them only mention the touching influence of music on the senses, and thoughts overflow from it, so that one thing after another slides between things without going deep into things.
The first paragraph of this "Music" is also scratched on the surface. Look:
"What are you playing, boy? It goes through the garden.
Like a string of footsteps, like a low command.
What are you playing with, son? Listen, your soul.
Caught in the entanglement of the flute tube. "
The voices of the two questions aroused curiosity, but the second question mentioned the soul and was cleverly extended to the second and third paragraphs. Since then, appreciation has turned to the inner nature of things-the deep entanglement between music and soul. In music, the piper's soul lives, and so does our rich and changeable soul. Music and soul cling to each other and tame each other;
"Why did you seduce her? Say yes loudly
The cell where she felt sorry for herself;
Your vitality is very strong, and you are made up of
I am eager to write more intense sad songs. ——
Quiet her, quiet her soul.
Back to the land of pentium and prosperity,
Life, growth, growth, maturity,
Before you force her to play softly. "
The soul has such a nature, situation and trend: sometimes it is "self-pity, strong and quiet", and sometimes it is "pentium and prosperity, growth, growth and maturity." We return to the land where music is flourishing, to the freedom of the soul, to the original state of the soul, or, this is the original utility, origin and purpose of music-from submission to gentle music, from self-imprisonment and temptation!
In the fourth quarter, the point of view began to change again, from the player to my inner observation.
"Now her wings are weaker:
You are a dreamer who wants to waste flying time.
Until my wings were cut by singing. "
Dreamers always squander their dreams like unrestrained birds, which leads to their wings flying and exhaustion of their essential weakness too quickly. Here, the tension and boundary between dream and art are actually revealed. I'm a bagpiper, and I feel a little sad. I sigh and encourage! otherwise
"She will never fly into my fence again,
When I call her to be happy. "
Reading and writing are like brother-sister love, which led me to write a poem about accidental music and borrowed one of them:
quiet
Text/thinking
What are you playing, Ronin?
Music flows back to hometown.
Passers-by, stuck on the way home
What are you playing, Ronin?
"Look, your soul.
Caught in the entanglement of the flute tube. "
Passers-by stay in time
Forward truncation
What are you playing, Ronin?
Rich inner talk
Shells, falling from the lips of time
The starting point is colorful and needs to be reinterpreted.
Extended road
Living in Imagination —— Pedestrian Recognition
Written on June 23rd, 20 18.
20 19/03/03 has been modified.