Bacia Edelman on thu 20 sep 01
Maybe this will help some of us. Many musicians and artists
and whatever we call ourselves are finding solace in work.
I just received this poem from the wonderful niece, gamba player,
gourmet cook with whom I was stuck in Boston till Sunday.
I have started working again.
TRY TO PRAISE THE MUTILATED WORLD
Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June's long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You've seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you've heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth's scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the gray feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.
We are all frightened about what lies ahead. I am
so glad we have each other for support.
Warm regards to all. Bacia
Bacia Edelman Madison, Wisconsin
http://www.mypots.com/bacia.htm
http://www.silverhawk5.com/edelman/index.html
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