Friday, January 13, 2012

19


THE SOUND OF NEW YORK.


Water drops hit the ground
While an outlander came to town
Her song took along
To be part of the sound

We are part of it
We are heart of it

Tireless vagabond shoes
And fancy Jimmy Choo’s
Walk around the streets
Forming strong and stoppable beats

Noise of the cranes
Shapes the temporary frames
Impatient horns are calling for future
Train’ speed plays its tune through the drains
Rollerbladers allow themselves to play like bairns

We are part of it
We are heart of it

Expected but unwanted cries of the sirens
Now and then hit our ears as reminders:
Frail and human is our heart,
Don’t rehearse your play!
Don’t sing wearing your neighbor’s hat!

Haven of countless songs
Haven of unique songs
Unique songs into a time, into a space
Sharing my song, my soul has been nourished
And joyfully dancing, my body has been cherished.


—Merce Cardus, The sound of New York.



Copyright © 2012 by THE PYTHAGOREAN  STORYTELLER. All rights reserved.

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