Peter Quince at the Clavier
I.
Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,
Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk,
Is music. It is like the strain
Waked in the elders by Susanna;
Of a green evening, clear and warm,
She bathed in her still garden, while
The red-eyed elders, watching, felt
The basses of their beings throb
In witching chords, and their thin blood
Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna.
II.
In the green water, clear and warm,
Susanna lay.
She searched
The touch of springs,
And found
Concealed imaginings.
She sighed,
For so much melody.
Upon the bank, she stood
In the cool
Of spent emotions.
She felt, among the leaves,
The dew
Of old devotions.
She walked upon the grass,
Still quavering.
The winds were like her maids,
On timid feet,
Fetching her woven scarves,
Yet wavering.
A breath upon her hand
Muted the night.
She turned —
A cymbal crashed,
And roaring horns.
III.
Soon, with a noise like tambourines,
Came her attendant Byzantines.
They wondered why Susanna cried
Against the elders by her side;
And as they whispered, the refrain
Was like a willow swept by rain.
Anon, their lamps' uplifted flame
Revealed Susanna and her shame.
And then, the simpering Byzantines
Fled, with a noise like tambourines.
IV.
Beauty is momentary in the mind —
The fitful tracing of a portal;
But in the flesh it is immortal.
The body dies; the body's beauty lives.
So evenings die, in their green going,
A wave, interminably flowing.
So gardens die, their meek breath scenting
The cowl of winter, done repenting.
So maidens die, to the auroral
Celebration of a maiden's choral.
Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings
Of those white elders; but, escaping,
Left only Death's ironic scraping.
Now, in its immortality, it plays
On the clear viol of her memory,
And makes a constant sacrament of praise.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
Bible Stories: The Story of Susanna
Susanna was a beautiful dame,
Daughter of Hilkiah;
Her parents had a righteous name,
In Mosaic laws reared, yeah!
A rich man, Joakim, married her;
They lived in Babylon;
Susanna led life in Lord’s fear,
And children too were born.
Adjoining her husband’s big house,
There was a garden fine;
Because Joakim was reputed,
Jews came to meet and dine.
Two elders made new judges then,
Came home with their law-suit;
Joakim was honorable man,
They came to see him oft.
At noon, each day, Susanna walked
Inside the garden near;
The elders eyed her while she strolled;
Their minds desired her.
Perverted soon, they failed to judge
And punished innocents;
Their eyes were always o’er the hedge
They’d lost their common-sense.
And seeing Susanna each noon,
They craved to possess her;
They did not divulge their passion:
Grew evil desire!
Ashamed to tell her of their lust,
They planned to black-mail her;
One day, they parted for food just,
Only met each other.
They hatched a plot to seize her lone,
And threaten her somehow;
Susanna came to bathe alone,
By side-gate, maids did go!
Susanna sent her maids to fetch
Her oil and ointments fast;
They closed the main-gate with good latch,
And left by side-gate past.
They did not see the elders there
Who hid to watch her bathe;
The elders watched her beauty rare:
Came out with plan, they made!
The elders told Susanna then
To lie with them or else,
They would tell she embraced a man,
And testify thus false.
Susanna sighed and deeply thought,
She was so badly caught;
If she did not obey as told,
She must welcome death bold!
She could not sin against the Lord;
Righteous was she by heart;
With grief, she wept and cried to God,
To save her for His part!
She raised a hue and cry therefore;
Elders opened main-gate;
The noise brought servants out of door
‘What terrible a fate! ’
Next day, all met at Joakim’s place,
All sad to hear the tale;
But Susanna wore brave a face;
Her parents stood to wail!
The elders told the false story-
Susanna had a man;
She locked the gate to make merry;
‘To kill her was their plan! ’
They ordered her unveiled to see
Her beauty with lust eyes;
They testified very nicely;
People believed their lies!
When asked, Susanna could not talk;
There was no man with her;
She went to garden to bathe, walk;
She didn’t do one blunder!
The assembly believed the tale:
‘Susanna was to die! ’
Young man Daniel came to her bale:
God heard her plaintive cry!
Susanna lamented to God;
Her people too all wept;
God had sent Daniel to her aid;
‘He proved they had all slept! ’
Elders had borne false witness just,
As they couldn’t have the dame;
Daniel questioned their verdict first,
Vowed to put them to shame!
He separated both elders,
Admonished them for crime;
He spoke to each in words so terse,
And gave them not much time.
He called each one in turn and asked,
“Which was the tree, they saw? ’
In blatant lies, each one had basked,
And answered wrong with awe!
One told it was a mastic tree,
Under which she embraced;
The next told it was an oak-tree,
At Susanna, he gazed.
Daniel exposed their lies clearly;
All heaved sighs of relief;
God stands by innocence truly;
Strong ought to be belief!
Both elders were put to death then,
For bearing false witness;
God doesn’t abandon righteous men,
Supreme is His kindness.
Grew Daniel in reputation;
Innocent blood was spared;
All praised him in admiration;
With wisdom, he had fared.
Adultery is mortal sin;
Who cares for this these days?
The upright people always win-
That’s what, the Bible says!
(4-10-2007)
poem by John Celes
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When Sue Wears Red
When Susanna Jones wears red
her face is like an ancient cameo
Turned brown by the ages.
Come with a blast of trumphets, Jesus!
When Susanna Jones wears red
A queen from some time-dead Egyptian night
Walks once again.
Blow trumphets, Jesus!
And the beauty of Susanna Jones in red
Burns in my heart a love-fire sharp like a pain.
Sweet silver trumphets, Jesus!
poem by Langston Hughes
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Music is...
Music is...
Music is expression...
Music is freedom...
Music is the song of life...
Music is notes...
Music is noise...
Music is beat...
Music is relaxing...
Music is peace...
Music is loud...
Music is calm...
Music is meaningful...
Music is sound...
Music is heart...
Music is soul...
Music is mind...
Music is body...
Music is nature...
Music is language...
Music is the song of my life...
Music is everything...
Music is me...
Music is....
poem by Madeline anderson
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The House Of Dust: Part 04: 05: The Bitter Love-Song
No, I shall not say why it is that I love you—
Why do you ask me, save for vanity?
Surely you would not have me, like a mirror,
Say 'yes,—your hair curls darkly back from the temples,
Your mouth has a humorous, tremulous, half-shy sweetness,
Your eyes are April grey. . . .with jonquils in them?'
No, if I tell at all, I shall tell in silence . . .
I'll say—my childhood broke through chords of music
—Or were they chords of sun?—wherein fell shadows,
Or silences; I rose through seas of sunlight;
Or sometimes found a darkness stooped above me
With wings of death, and a face of cold clear beauty. .
I lay in the warm sweet grass on a blue May morning,
My chin in a dandelion, my hands in clover,
And drowsed there like a bee. . . .blue days behind me
Stretched like a chain of deep blue pools of magic,
Enchanted, silent, timeless. . . .days before me
Murmured of blue-sea mornings, noons of gold,
Green evenings streaked with lilac, bee-starred nights.
Confused soft clouds of music fled above me.
Sharp shafts of music dazzled my eyes and pierced me.
I ran and turned and spun and danced in the sunlight,
Shrank, sometimes, from the freezing silence of beauty,
Or crept once more to the warm white cave of sleep.
No, I shall not say 'this is why I praise you—
Because you say such wise things, or such foolish. . .'
You would not have me say what you know better?
Let me instead be silent, only saying—:
My childhood lives in me—or half-lives, rather—
And, if I close my eyes cool chords of music
Flow up to me . . . long chords of wind and sunlight. . . .
Shadows of intricate vines on sunlit walls,
Deep bells beating, with aeons of blue between them,
Grass blades leagues apart with worlds between them,
Walls rushing up to heaven with stars upon them. . .
I lay in my bed and through the tall night window
Saw the green lightning plunging among the clouds,
And heard the harsh rain storm at the panes and roof. . . .
How should I know—how should I now remember—
What half-dreamed great wings curved and sang above me?
What wings like swords? What eyes with the dread night in them?
This I shall say.—I lay by the hot white sand-dunes. .
Small yellow flowers, sapless and squat and spiny,
Stared at the sky. And silently there above us
Day after day, beyond our dreams and knowledge,
Presences swept, and over us streamed their shadows,
Swift and blue, or dark. . . .What did they mean?
What sinister threat of power? What hint of beauty?
Prelude to what gigantic music, or subtle?
Only I know these things leaned over me,
Brooded upon me, paused, went flowing softly,
Glided and passed. I loved, I desired, I hated,
I struggled, I yielded and loved, was warmed to blossom . . .
You, when your eyes have evening sunlight in them,
Set these dunes before me, these salt bright flowers,
These presences. . . .I drowse, they stream above me,
I struggle, I yield and love, I am warmed to dream.
You are the window (if I could tell I'd tell you)
Through which I see a clear far world of sunlight.
You are the silence (if you could hear you'd hear me)
In which I remember a thin still whisper of singing.
It is not you I laugh for, you I touch!
My hands, that touch you, suddenly touch white cobwebs,
Coldly silvered, heavily silvered with dewdrops;
And clover, heavy with rain; and cold green grass. . .
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Feel The Music
What is music and why is it here?
Music is made for the ear.
To be made and played for many of decades.
To be embraced by different cultures and race,
Music
the heart of man
Only it seems now only a few understand
Music.
The upbeat the down beat the chords the rhythm it plays.
Exchanging and changing forever.
Music.
Not one man can take the responsibility for making the music the music made us.
You have to trust in the
Music
Classical Jazz, Swing, Country everything it brings.
Music.
Although music has a lot of names it will always remain the same
Music will always change.
The dramatic character of a story.
It will always end with the final glory.
Because of its graceful authority
music
Don't make music that embraces no heart
Make music that shall shine threw the dark.
Music lives every where.
Creating our atmosphere.
Our world circulates by the beat the music makes
So listen to the music see what is hidden in side.
Listen to the music shhhh! Close your eyes.
Unknown music is everywhere.
So open your ears stand clear
music it is taking over so beware!
There is no escaping
There is no replacing
There is no other so there is no point of looking further my brotha.
Without music where would I be?
It took sweet love music to create me.
The songs of Al green and Barry White stimulated the body so it is no fighting the
Music
Because the music doesn't fight u it hugs u kisses u loves u
Cause the music only can be true
'Lets make music', I've it heard said
But making music is not just in the bed
Music is made threw gospel beats threw the songs of rappers through the notes of the streets.
So let's make music my friend.
A sad moment in your life
'The rain is on your window pane' as Mary J. explains threw a song.
What more do I have to say music is made to be played.
There is no escapade
It is understood music is what it should be
Music is what it will always be
Okay! U understand now so read the music
That sings threw me
Read the music it is written so clearly
read my music
Make your own beat
So let me ask u do u feel the music that I've Just made
Do you feel the music running through your veins
Do you feel the music in my poetry song
Well, if u don't feel the music then something is wrong
Cause music are written in these words
just listen hush! Cause music will be heard
BY: TIFFANY BURTON
THE LOVE OF MUSIC INSPIRED ME
Ó 2006 Tiffany Burton
poem by Tiffany Burton
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A Deathless Music!
Music never dies!
There's music
For all occasions!
Music lives
By the noise of
Musical instruments!
Music flourishes
By the poetic lines
Of best poets!
Music for joy
Just as for grief
Lives with man!
Music consoles
Crying child
From birth on!
Music makes all
Slave of sweet sound
Called melody!
All love music
Intellectuals or cowboys
As in movies!
Music occupies
Till the end of life
Of all ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Musical Instruments To Produce Love
Cymbal for Zambia
Zambia for Cymbal
Zambia cymbal music
Harps to produce musical sounds
Tambourines to produce musical dances
Dances for Serbia Ladies
Samba shake body make bottom dazzle our eyes for laughter
I did not have shoes, i complained crying profusely until i saw a man without legs, i have legs and i can dance
Love sparkles beauty
Beauty sparkles dance
Dance for all is fun
Cymbal for Zambia
Zambia for cymbal
Zambia cymbal music
Harps to produce musical sounds
Tambourines to produce musical dances, we are dancing
Babies Bobos want to dance, dance away your sorrows until day - break
We are dancing
Musical instruments produce melodious sound for love flow, caresses and kisses
Dance away your sorrows
We are dancing
poem by Olayemi Ayo
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Music to Relax
Every beat, every tone
Music is rhythm of soul
Pop, Jazz and Country
Release all our worries
Music gives life a motion
Music controls every emotion
Music calms the mind
Music helps us – our way to find!
Music is inspiration
Music – full of imagination
Music has feelings
Music gives life a meaning
A Slow beat is silent word
A fast beat make you shrewd
Every moment its true worth
Music gives life – new birth
Music is melody
Music moves your body
Make people jump up and down
Spin in circles round and round
Music for celebration
Music for education
Music for entertainment
Music for refreshment
Listen to music to change your mood
Listen to music to keep you cool
Listen to music just to relax
Listen to music to make you sleep
poem by Divyesh J. Shah
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Music is
Music is round
Music is square
Music is blue
Music is green
Music is am
Music is pm
Music is happiness
Music is sadness
Music is life
Music is death
Music is the world.
poem by Lesley Bass
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Susanna
Susanna una bambina tutta colorata
che quando va a ballare sembra un'aranciata
e guarda gi i maschietti
con aria misteriosa
ma quando torna a casa la sera
tutta un'altra cosa.
Susanna balla sempre tutto il pomeriggio
ma non fa molto caso a chi le sta vicino
e quando guarda intorno
muove appena appena gli occhi
con aria fatale
tenuto conto degli anni.
Non si mette le scarpette negli occhi
perch le hanno tutti
e non si lascia affascinare da nessuno
ma sorride a tutti.
Susanna ha la maglietta numero 28
coi ricciolini in testa sembra proprio un confetto
e non sta mai ferma un attimo
gira dappertutto
e quando pensi di fermarla
gi passata da un anno.
Quando sorride ha un'espressione maliziosa che ti fa coraggio
ma poi scompare e non la vedi pi
per tutto il pomeriggio
Susanna una bambina colorata
Susanna un'aranciata....
Susanna una bambina tutta colorata
che quando va a ballare sembra un'aranciata
e se per caso ti vien voglia
di mangiarla tutta
stai attento amico
quella frutta che scotta
attento amico....vacca, l'hai gi rotta!
song performed by by Vasco Rossi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music
Music is an art
Music is presided over by the Muses
Music combines sounds in a pleasing way
Music has common elements.
Music has pitch and melody
Music has harmony and rhythm
Music has tempo and meter
Music has sonic qualities of timbre.
Music is euphony or sweet sound
Music has harmonious qualities
Music is inspirational
Music opens the soul.
Music is energizing
Music is enriching
Music makes one happy
Music is relaxing.
Music is soothing
Music is entertainment
Music is lovable
Music is stirring.
Music moves one to tears
Music gives a spark
Music tunes a special memory
Music is a form of therapy.
Music fills with spiritual attunement
Music is a personal experience
Music takes us along the road of life
Music is the corner stone of every society.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Music is Laughter
Music is laughter as a sounding of the wind,
It always wants to make one sing, sing, sing.
Oh what beauty is the total heartful rapture
That creates a new melodious rhythm to capture.
Music soother a tired body and mind,
And can be relaxing treatment for mankind.
When you have felt the thrust of a song.
Imagination soars and you can't go wrong.
Some people feel music works like music,
While others cry at folk-songs that are tragic.
Love songs can seem very dramatic
While dancing to tunes that are often romantic.
Oh, when the sounds of music reaches my ears,
It can touch a memory or bring sudden tears.
Whenever I hear sounds of music that play,
I know for me, it brings a happy day.
poem by Gladys I. Swanson
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What Is Music
What is music?
What is music?
Is music the languages that shoot out of my mouth and speak in silence?
Is music the moving of my lip according to my mind command?
What is music?
Music is the one two word that my mind put together in my mouth
Music is the airs that escape a snap of my violence teeth
Music is the wisdom sound my mind and mouth produce
Music is the combine sound that entertain my ear drum
What is music?
Music is a simple sound I verbalize to state my joyful soul
Music is the jingle that loosen my soul in time of desire
Music is the sounds that launch me to a free world
Music is the spirit that struggle in me
What is music?
Music is the sound I scream from my mouth to a free humanity
Music is a one two word I yell
Music is the lyric I cry to express my mental mind,
My beating heart
My jumping feet
My shouting soul
My sweating body
What is music?
Music is the rhythm of my voice, what is music? ?
poem by Robert Otim
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What is music?
What is music?
Music is the rhythm of the soul
Every beat, every tone, every melody
Is in sync with the natural vibe of your body
What is music?
Music is an outlet, from the everyday
It can take away the pain you feel
Or add to the excitement of a new day
What is music?
Music is something that never changes, just Evolves
Music brings people together of all ages
No matter what you believe in, music brings Common ground
What is music?
Music is my name
Music is who I am
Music is my life
Music is something that can’t be taken away
I will always and forever have MY music
poem by Jessica Cole
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It's Music Not Noise
Love Music, Hate Noise
Music may heal you
Noise may irritate you
Different from every aspect.
Find Music, Throw Noise
Music is nice,
Noise is insane
Different from each other.
Cherish Music, Burn Noise
Music is good
Noise is evil
Now can you choose?
poem by Rudy Rico Castillo
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Music
May I begin with music
It soothes my heart and mind
Surrounding me with melody
I feel lost in time
The melody so sweet
The inspiration high
With just a few notes
As the music goes by
Music can touch our lives
And bring about the rain
Music is a healer,
That can alleviate the pain
Music is for any emotion
That can fill your mind
With happiness or in sorrow
In music you can find
Whatever you are feeling
Let the music embrace
Let the pain run right through you
And the tears run down your face
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Music
Can you feel the music,
As it calms your soul,
Music helps to keep us
on our feet.
Music is surely the soul
that connects within us all,
Nourishing and comforting us.
The beauty of soft melody
playing helps to relax our
mind and body and our
soul.
Variety of different music helps
us all to decide which rhythm our
soul wants for today.
Music helps us to blossom,
The same way as flowers
like a good tune or a sweet
lullaby.
Without music life would
have no nourishment to help
move us along,
life would feel dull.
Music fills the emptiness in
our hearts,
Spreading that joyful feeling.
Music has a way to always chase
away those dark clouds,
When feeling gloomy and sad,
Turn on that favorite song.
Music has come along way through
out history,
Nothing could never take away
the magic of music.
poem by Derek James
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Because, music is my eternal life.......
When there is a song about love
then the music does become a soul of my heart
When I hug the melody of music
then I feel the spirit of words, traveling with me
When the voice of music passes in the air
then my ears are listening to its harmony
When I close my eyes and feel the rhythm of its music
then I dream an angel of its music goes around me
Melody is my love and the eternal music is my life
The music has its own story that plays with amazing emotions
and I can hear its beautiful song with touching rhythms
Let it be symphony, classic, jazz or hard rock
but everyone loves music which has only one language
in this universe that has known as Sound of Music.
Anyone who has no interest themselves in music
is nothing but dead bodies on the ground.
Because music is my eternal life.
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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A Music Beat
A constant beat forever scratches the back of my head
1,2,3,4
1,2,3,4
1,2,3,4
A constant rhythm to live by
To walk by
To talk by
Even to think by
Music has crawled into my brain
Nay my Body
Something that takes form
As I feed it
I feel it!
I am always hearing it!
It tickles my toes
It tingles my fingers
I feel it throughout my body
It permeates my very soul!
Music is more than a hobby
Music is almost more than a passion
Music is an addiction one and all must satisfy
But I feel that I succumb to it more than others
Yet it is not a bad thing, one cannot go through life without hearing music
Everyone is addicted to the enticing sounds of Music, no matter the form it takes;
The moment our ears taste the sound of music we crave more no matter the type;
Music is therapy for the soul
We listen to the music we feel our soul can relate to
But to create music is truly wonderful for you are not just showing your soul to the world;
One is pouring out one’s truest deepest emotions, that one cannot even express through words;
Creating music is taking a fruit and showing it to the world to prove that it is ripe;
poem by Aaron Burr
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Music is my life.
Music souths my soul. Music takes me away.
It zones me out to another place.
It takes me to another world, far from reality.
It takes me far away from where i need to be.
Music calms me down. It changes how i feel.
It makes me forget and helps my heart heal.
Im married to music. By my side it will stay.
Follows me where ever i go. Night -N- Day.
The one i give my heart to, it'll always be here.
The thought of letting me down. No theres no fear.
Music is the beautiful sounds that flows through my ears.
ill be committed to it for years and years.
Music flows through my body. My urges start to ring.
The tipe of urges that makes me start to sing.
Music is my addiction. I feen for it.
I need no help to be cured for it.
Music is the air that i breath.
Music is the strength you find in me.
It will always be my number 1 Love till the day i die.
I put music above all.
Cus.MUSiC. is my life.
poem by Ashley Silvestre
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