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by: Albuquerque Annie
The air is empty.
Silence is now the music of the ancient Greeks,
Harmony more inaudible, inaccessible than that of
Pythagoras' music of the spheres.
Each little note performed thousands of years ago
Vanished forever as soon as it was played.
Only people with good imaginations have a clue
To what ancient Greek music was like.
What are the secrets?
Nature reluctantly offers one key to understanding.
What is the other secret?
Music is more than a sound; it is a feeling.
Thunder over stormy steely seas
Uncovered hidden discord and became the basis
For percussion, unleashed chaotic music.
Quiet green meadows graced with golden sunshine
Induced daydreams that inspired peaceful melodies.
Lively little brooks enchanted the ancients
And compelled them to shout, dance, laugh, and sing
As they played fast joyful reels.
Mournful ballads were born in the forest breeze.
The trees softly and lowly moaned
The underlying harmony of sorrow,
A sorrow it alone can draw out of hearts.
Listen once more to the silence,
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