I wish to start this year with a “piano post” so I bring Mozart, some words and an illustration:
no intervalo de cada tecla
sobra uma sombra
É aí que resido
.. ouço mil risos de criança
onde os silêncios de todos os mundos
que habitam nos intervalos das sombras
me sussurram o teu nome
onde todo o ruido tem a inocência das gotas de água
(Maria MFA Costa)
By D.H. Lawrence
Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.
In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.
So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.