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On the side of a hill in the deep forest green, tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground,
blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves washes the grave with silvery tears,
a soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions, generals order their soldiers to kill
and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Bellissimo, Maestro, bellissimo.

Luchiano Pavarotti October 12, 1935 – September 6, 2007.

Whose only crime in music was to be popular outside the rarefied confines of the operatic circles.

2 comments:

Kanrei said...

A true and massive loss (and not just because he was a big man). There are not many people who can stay true to their art, yet gain fame and love doing it. He was one of kind, not because of his voice, but because of who he was. RIP Maestro.

Camille Alexa said...

*Doffing cap**