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By Arcadian on
Friday, October 22, 2004
Friday, July 30, 2004
Evening light fades, eyes closed
in the stillness of the night
The diurnal din has subsided, for now at least.
The Oud reclines against the bookcase
and meditates what airs to voice now
Six strings traverse a curvaceous bowl
Three wound bass strings with love
and three treble with hate
A modal harmony wants to break silence
and talk in a discursive manner
all the reading it has done today;
It wants skilled left hand fingers to articulate
patterns of ideas, emotions along the ebony finger board
And a right hand clasped plectrum to sweeps arcs
of interjection , by the dining table
in the stillness of the night,
near the bowl of fruit, after dinner
for an animated passionate discussion.
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