Song to the Masters III: Frédéric Chopin

If Romance desires definition without words,

In Chopin beyond becoming standards;

What fertile period brought forth symphonic poetry,

Not single emotion but intense complex creativity;

Need not a romantic be -

Through you a wistful awakening.

Slip on silky darkness in murmurs and whispers,

Under a willow we converse poetry in your fingers;

Prefer not on stage perform with audience ring,

Strike not notes ardent in small intimate setting;

You need not raise or invigorate -

Subtle strokes touch tender and temperate.

Chords and constellations connect beams of light,

Scintillating silent streams among night;

Ah, if stars serenade, your Nocturne they would twinkle -

High notes of C and E shine and tinkle;

Countless winking stars pure yet practiced,

A windless field of gentle blossoms chaliced.

Write the only ever Opus to soothe turbulence,

The sole piece I studied without consequence;

To love without fury or force,

Harmonic persuasion bind mutual discourse;

A pillar poignant, profound, ever sensorial,

A teacher and friend through times mercurial.

Oh, Chopin,

In your verses tonal,

I am ever, ever loyal.

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