A Piano Recital of Isser Slonim at the Rubin Academy in Jerusalem
A PIANO RECITAL OF ISSER SLONIM AT THE RUBIN ACADEMY IN JERUSALEM
An old man is not a paltry thing
His hands are hammers and strings
His mind holds the whole composition
Before it unflows to us.
In this bare room
With these simple chairs
His Russian students long hair
Bright their laughter- Youth,
He gives a life of integrity
To playing a music of strength
whose tones deepened
by mastery say,
“This is a real thing a great thing. “
And this time its name is not fame and celebrity
but is one small man,
a teacher who bears in his own inner depth
all the music
his students have in long years
learned from him
whose fingers with fierce flexibility
play through
to the end
with intelligence and humor
the sounds which make us feel
we too may sometimes live
in a higher world, also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Related quotes
A Good teacher
A Good teacher is one, who teaches with love.
A Good teacher is one, who Corrects Students and make them Grow, Instead of shouting and making them slow.
A Good teacher is one, who makes Things to Flow.
A Good teacher is one, who gets things done as and when.
A Good teacher is one, who never treats a student as Foe.
A Good teacher is one, who Teachings must help in long Run.
A Good teacher is one, who says always it can be done.
A Good teacher is one, who should never make students Run, Instead have Great Fun.
A Good teacher is one, who must be always Bright and Teach Students Right.
A Good teacher is one, who is always a best Friend
poem by Narendra Kuppan
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The Music Comes And Goes
by: Tripp
the soothing sounds of a piano to a guitar the sounds they make
the feeling It brings when the piano sings playing the strings of a guitar
the times come and goes as the music grows
in the heart of those who play
thinking of that one thing that brings epiphany to that instrument you play
as you hold and take care playing with hopes and dreams the music slips through
and sings
i can't get enough of what it does to me
when i hear that sound that voice
the music she brings to my heart when I'm with her
her voice is the epiphany to my heart
holding on to her the music keeps playing
my heart keeps beating as the music plays
i keep dreaming dreaming holding on hoping this song will never end
dreaming to fall in love with this instrument forever
she is my instrument
poem by Preston Trip
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As long as its music
Please play me a symphony
Make a simple cheerful harmony
Please play me a chord from a guitar
For me, it does not matter
If I’m the only audience of your theatre
Give me some instrumental vibes
All rhythms and tunes are musically ripe
There is no need to take precaution
While playing the Banjo or flamenco percussion
As long as its music
We can all heal
As long as its music
We can all feel
We can sing out our hearts and soul
We can let this music take control
Please play me the drums
We can sing or we can hum
Please play me a CD or a hit record
We could sing to the tunes of an ipod
With the sounds of music we can compose a song
Maybe sing to the town’s bells chiming ding-dong
Please play me the sweet keys of a piano
Hit a sweet note that is a major or minor
As long as its music
We can all heal or cry
As long as its music
We can all feel or fly high
And I will be lost in your voice and eyes
Holding on to each minute that flies
Whatever sounds or instruments
I shall feel good in the moment
Please play me a note from a flute
Those peaceful sounds tend to soothe
I want to hear sweet, sweet music
Choose your lyrics, take your pick
My heart will dance, till she is weak
Get out that guitar, acoustic or electric
Please play me the violins of an orchestra night
String me some melodies in broad daylight
And we can rap to melodious sense or crap
While our feet’s playfully tap, tap and tap
As long as its music
We can dance along the shore
As long as its music
We can all take to the dance floor
And I say once more, once more!
As long as its music, I will only ask for more
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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For All Pianos All Around The World
pi
piano
piano use
piano key
piano roll
piano wire
piano note
pianoforte
piano store
piano pedal
piano bench
piano effect
piano sound
piano string
piano mover
piano maker
piano music
piano action
piano player
piano lesson
piano design
piano course
piano soloist
piano tuning
piano recital
piano replica
piano sonata
piano rhythm
piano sample
piano teacher
piano program
piano concerto
piano repertoire
piano brand name
anno piano twenty twelve
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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The Real Thing
La la la
Love is the real thing
You know
Love is the real thing
La la la la
La love
La la la
Love is the real thing
You know
Love is the real thing
La la la la
She is waiting
In the office
For the bell to go
She is thinking
Of their meeting
Just a month ago
Now shes running
Through the people
Everyone so slow
Now he holds her
And he loves her
He tells her so and
La la la
Love is the real thing
You know
Love is the real thing
La la la la
La love
La la la
Love is the real thing
You know
Love is the real thing
La la la la
By the nightfall
They have driven
From the world they know
Shes so happy
Theyre together
And their love will grow
And when you feel your chance has come
Whos going to throw it all away
And if theres someone left behind
You have to say that
La la la
Love is the real thing
You know
Love is the real thing
La la la la
La love
La la la
Love is the real thing
You know
Love is the real thing
La la la la
La la la
Love is the real thing
You know
Love is the real thing
La la la la
La love
La la la
Love is the real thing
You know
Love is the real thing
La la la la
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Man Standing
Come see a living, breathing spectacle only seen right here
It's your last chance in this lifetime, the line forms to the rear
You won't believe your eyes
Your eyes will not believe your ears
Get your money out, get ready
Step right up, yeah you, come here
You ain't seen nothing like him, the last one of his breed
You better hold on to your money, honey
Honeys, don't forget to breathe
Enter at your own risk, mister
It might change the way you think
There's no dancers, there's no diamonds
No, this boy don't lip synch
Chorus:
Here's the last man standing
Step right up, here's the real thing
The last chance of a lifetime
Come and see, hear, feel the real thing
See those real live calloused fingers wrapped around those guitar strings
Kiss the kips where hurt has lingered
It breaks your heart to hear him sing
The songs were more than music, they were pictures from his soul
So keep your pseudo-punk, hip-hop, pop-rock junk
And your digital downloads
Chorus:
Here's the last man standing
Step right up, here's the real thing
The last chance of a lifetime
Come and see, hear, feel the real thing
Take your seats, now folks - it's showtime
Hey, Patrick, hit the lights
There's something in the air, there's magic in the night
Now here's the band, the really play
I'll count the first one in
I don't know where it's going
We all know where it's been
Chorus:
The last man standing
Step right up, here's the real thing
The last chance of a lifetime
To come and see, hear, feel
The last man standing
Step right up, here's the real thing
The last chance of a lifetime
Come and see, hear, feel the real thing, the real thing, the real thing
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Art Class
I look around this joyful room,
Amongst the peaceful teens
This is perhaps the only class
Where students are not machines
In the art class they’ll smile
In the art class they’ll yell
In the art class they‘ll be kind
And not raise a hell
Many teachers wonder why this is so
Many teachers wonder where the secret lies
The secret to peaceful teens, which enjoy their work
The secret to the students without depressed cries
The students wonder how they could not get it
How they could not understand
How the teachers don’t realise
That in the art room there are no demands
In the maths class there are complications
In the English room there is language
But in the art room there is only creativity
It is that which students which to salvage
The art teacher is simple and kind
The art teacher doesn’t lecture or scream
The art teacher doesn’t force them to be equal
And make a most horrendous scene
No, in the art class they are not equal
But the differences they admire
They have a writer, a painter and a sculptor
And they have freedom to aspire
Freedom is what the students wish
The students wish to be treated like people
In the art class they are treated as such
In other classes they are believed incapable
The students will always be at peace in the art room
There will be no fights, no pain, and no scorn
The other teachers will wonder what the secret is
But their attempts to find out will always be forlorn
poem by Lenore Lee
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Even Better Than The Real Thing
Give me one more chance
And you'll be satisfied
Give me two more chances
You won't be denied
Well my heart is where it's always been
My head is something in between
Give me one more chance
Let me be your lover tonight
(Check it out)
You're the real thing
Yeah the real thing
You're the real thing
Even better than the real thing
Give me one last chance
And I'm gonna make you sing
Give me half a chance
To ride on the waves that you bring
You're honey child to a swarn of bees
Gonna blow right through you like a breeze
Give me one last chance
We'll slide down the surface of things
You're the real thing
Yeah the real thing
You're the real thing
Even better than the real thing
We're free ti fly the crimson sky
The sun won't melt our wings tonight
Oh now
Here she comes
Take me higher
Take me higher
Can you take me higher?
Will you take me higher?
You're the real thing
Yeah the real thing
You're the real thing
Even better than the real thing
Even better than the real thing
Even better than the real thing
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Was Born Of Music
I was born of music, with rhythm in my blood.
My tunes are alive, and move like a rivers flood.
I walk down the long path of quivering notes,
And I make music out of legendary quotes.
Music is in my soul, I was born of its power,
It's with me every second, every minute and hour.
It is as if I was created in Cohen's Tower of song
And I feel that if that's so, it's not so wrong.
When I breathe the air that fulfills my life's dreams
What comes out is not all what it truly seems,
I exhale the music from my heart and soul,
And that is what makes my life feel very whole.
I am a river of music that flows through time
I am your love song, your rhythm and your rhyme.
I provide you comfort in your true time of need.
I am the lyrics of all life, for you all to read.
I was born of music, of this I am sure of,
Music, it consumes me, it's my only true love
Put your ear to the ground and listen to the earth
And you will hear and feel where music was birthed
Piano keys of white and black, guitar strings so thin
Drums ready to set the beat, a singer with a grin.
These are all friends of mine, that make my music bright,
These are all friends of mind that make my so life right.
REB (MARCH 2012) God Bless the music of the world, and those that make it.
poem by Rik Bertrand
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The ever filled reservoir of the school teacher
Teachers in India like to impart knowledge
So their students can have an edge
Their Students are their pride
Whom they proudly remember when they retire.
Gopal was from a small town
Where he studied his childhood lessons
Now he had money, fame and fortune
And to show it to his teacher he returned.
To come along with him he requested his poor teacher
But teacher said it is not the rule of Mother Nature
He being here for many students like Gopal can show way
As water flows but the river stays! ”
poem by Venkatesh M. R.
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Music Man (The)
hey there mister music man
play your music like you did
last night when i saw you live
on fifth and amsterdam
hey there mister music man
spread your music 'cross the land
i'd follow you from here to there
just like you asked when i was there
but sadly i cant follow through
for my bestfriend is terminal
they say its name is Cancer
hey there mister music man
play your music spread your love,
like you did on 5th and amsterdam
would you come play for my friend
mister music man
play your music play every song you know
play them as you would for all
play them once for a thousand times
we'll put it on live tv
so the whole world can see
hey there mister music man
play your music
spread your love across the land
from here to there
make his last days worthy
as he falls into his dark sleep
hey there mister music man
play your music play your love
spread it far across the land
like the laughter of a baby
in a quiet room
like the laughter of a baby
in a quiet room
like the laughter of a baby
in a quiet room.
poem by David Thomas
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Guitar Man
I wasn’t born with a guitar in my hands
When I started playing I was ten
You may think my talent’s average, but don’t count me out
There’s been power in my gift since I began
My expression in music is just like my words
I’m very direct and I’m real
I don’t back down, or play weak timid sounds
And I only write songs that I feel
I’m a fun loving guy with a great sense of humor
My music, I take it quite serious
I can be calm and I’ll listen to reason
But don’t be in my face when I’m furious
I’m not always likable, but I’m mostly lovable
There’s strength in my heart and my hand
Some know me as Greg others call me Farris
But you can call me Guitar Man
poem by Rosie McFadden
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This Or That
One thing true about this or that
Some people don't mind if I am thin or fat
And they don't care, about the length of my hair
So to make all happy I just wear a hat,
And one thing more about this or that
I am glad I have a dog and not a cat
Though some are picky, they'd rather have a kitty
But then at least my pet isn't a rat,
Then do I wish or do I say a prayer
Did I glance at her or did I give a stare
Maybe I should lie, and to both I could deny
But then would anyone worry or would they even care.
Thinking more about this or thats
Some people don't want the truth just the facts
As all they want to hear, is joy and not fear
And then should I sit or have I sat,
Would I enjoy listening to music everyday
If the music was what someone else did play
Would I rather listen to a teacher, instead of a preacher
The choice is either this or that as I did say,
Is it better to say hello than it is to say goodbye
And is it easier to live that it is to die
Do we live by choices, or do we run in courses
Do we ever win or are we better when we just try,
As I think just where I am at
Would I rather write or would I rather chat
The choices are many, in this life of plenty
But that is the truths about this or that.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Music Alone Shall Live
Music is my friend
when I am lonely
music is the one and only
thing that never ends
Music lives everywhere
can't escape it
can't replace it
Music is my life to me
music is what it is and will always be
Music is your strength
when you are weak
Music is your hope
when you are bleak
Music is made to be played
to fade
to serenade
Music is the gift everyone should give
music alone shall live
poem by U. Ashley Ogonor
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A Piece of Chalk (Children's Poem)
Chalk is happiest when the teachers come to him
Because he can chat about all sorts of subjects
Such as astronomy, geography, science and art
Chalk knows whatever you want to know
Chalk doesn’t like to do just one thing
When he is called on by the teacher
And he needs to follow the teacher’s orders
So Chalk hits the students chatting in class
To give them a big shock and stop their talking
Chalk hopes the seed of wisdom grows in students’ minds
And they can improve their studying a lot
If students want to learn about everything from Chalk
Even though every moment he becomes thinner and smaller
At the cost of his life
He still enjoys his work
Chating
Teacher
At class room
Take sleep
Students play
Chating game...
Teacher shouted...
Suddenly...
'Slilince'
Students all are
Stop the chatting...
Teacher go for
The sleep...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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At The Piano
Wanting to cleave clearly in the mind the wooden chopping boards of the house into piano keys,
and the long tables of the dining room into some imagined concert:
Do you hear it?
Yes?
Do you not since then not realize this grand scale?
The poor boy is playing a sonata in his head, yes?
Yes.
Now. (Pushed into agreement as if pushed by birth into an empty room without choice and flowers for wallpaper and a mirror kept blind dark in a drawer)
There was a piano, once, in my head.
And a stage.
And the world surprised by what had been found.
Difficult piece: the left hand flying over the right and the air-pedal stepped through and clean to sustain.
And all the world standing behind kitchen counters and the dinner plates waiting for the imagined overture to complete its applause:
If only there was no need to explain.
If only the real thing was as clear and as audible as once the beautiful music.
* Brown beaver in a stream and the grass green
Small girl on a swing and a bird wing
And because he thinks it’s meant to be spring,
he colors the clear edges
of all living things in his piano book-
Where the paw touches sharp the blades
of the green patch
and the bare arm of the blonde girl arcs
her slender reach to the sun.
And old Brahms who lifts his hand in a wave,
even if this is meant to be a slow waltz he’s playing,
and a packed piano concert hall he’s set in where a bright blue blazer’s not the right suit for this true master to wear.
This genuine thing:
Every day before the sun rose,
I dreamt the world already in color.
Ivy on the old wall greener by far
than any I had seen the lush trees
bending some friends hiding behind jars,
sliding doors snuck into the empty cabinets of the garage wanting to be found and: everyone loved.
Wanting to tell the truth, to play it.
Song remembered from somewhere else
and someone else’s mistake:
the bored boy on the waiting couch
knows the girl now playing the piano has no applause in sight. The day could be awash with light!
what colors blind him with the waiting bird on the wing wrap his hands with a song small girl’s swing fill his eyes while he’s playing a fast loud trick of a trill in his head
in what was said to be “with feeling” terrible terrible thing
* All encompassing terror of the grand design
I wanted the great concertos,
the Bach arias.
I wanted: Praise be to God who fashions with his own hands the universe and all of creation out of a deep love for everything without choice.
Without being dramatic.
I wanted the long pause.
I wanted the audience stunned to tears because:
this we have not heard before in the streets this song this beautifully done.
It moves.
It brings us to the edge of our sight.
I am not the light.
I was not even part of its terms of recovery or perfection.
Joy without end without just reward.
Who has not, faced with a sin, said:
I want to be good?
For he hears even our thoughts.
I wanted that silence.
I wanted the huge applause after the silence.
*by L.L.Ypil
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Come A Long Way
Swing low, could be the last call for two of us
I said swing high, reach out and touch the sky
But dont cry yet, its not time yet
See this race is wrong
Come see, this race is right
See millions of years pass with no end in sight
Sleep tight, you couldnt count the cost through the night
cause its not right, it never was right
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Up on may day, and there is a carnival on my street tonight
I hear them dancing, I hear them dancing
But on a clear day
If this thing dont move here
Then this thing just dont have no heartbeat
Get on the street, I say
Sweet hours to live, I got no time to kill
I said hold back those arms raised hold back the bill
Sleep tight, you couldnt count the cost through the night
cause its not right, it never was right
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Swing low, could be the last call for two of us
I said swing high, reach out and touch the sky
But dont cry yet, its not time yet
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Come a long, long way
Come a long, long
Words and music : simple minds (c) emi music (publ) ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Play On The Music
Play on the music
Drop by drop
The strings divine
The nature at its eloquence
From heavens to earth
Stretch the string
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Beethoven’s symphony
Chopin’s piano
Santana’s guitar
Or the cuckoos song
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the heat of the night
In cold surroundings
The story of my love
My illusions great
I construct heavens
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For the moments rare
It’s only for those
The discerning here
The enchanted being
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Don’t leave me alone
O soul you fly
The body shivers
With the thought
Of death and destruction
O soul we were friends
Thou fly to eternity
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Your place is heaven
I want to be heard
A slave to a master
So ungrateful
Your beauty in this world
I hath been
You decorated me
With ornaments rare
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For this is your fate
O carrier of soul
The life’s going by
Take your share
O body of the soul
Freedom anew
In the world here
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For I am the real
The being and the nothing
The beloved and the rival
The saki and the wine
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the deep longing
Of the night long
The strings so stretched
From the heavens to earth
Sing songs of love, O beloved mine
Reveal thy face, in my imaginations wild
Torn is my being, between real and unreal
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the middle of the night
The rain drops falling
From the clouds high
Is telling me this story
Khayyam’s disciple
Sings a song
Play on the music
Drop by drop
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Real Thing
Rap 1:
It's the real thing that makes your body swing
Open your ears for the techno rap sing
Back on the track, no my name ain't Jack
You try to criticize, so now step back
I traveled the world all round and round
Make a lot of heads go upside down
If it ain't rough, no, it ain't no thing
Just Let yourself go cause you're rolling with the real thing
Searchin' for the real thing
Do this! Do this! Come on, come on. Do this! Do this!
We're going for the real thing
Go! Go! Let yourself go, let yourself go!
Go! Go! Let yourself go, let yourself go!
CHORUS pt1:
No more waiting, anticipating
We're searching for the real thing
No more waiting, anticipating
We're going for the real thing
Rap 2:
I select the thoughts and need from people's minds
Combine it with my own style, I ain't blind
One of a kind make sure I'll find
A way to gain and win cause it's the real thing
The music flows, I lay these rhymes
Time for some action, cause it's about time
Pay close attention, are you out, are you in?
'Cause if you roll, you're rolling with the real thing
CHORUS pt1
CHORUS pt2:
And we're not gonna stop
Until we reach the highest top
We don't need, to stop
We'll keep on searchin' till we drop
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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