viral poetry
Walt Whitman
Word over all, beautiful as the sky!
Beautiful that war, and all its deeds of carnage, must in time be utterly lost;
That the hands of the sisters Death and Night, incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world:
... For my enemy is dead--a man divine as myself is dead;
I look where he lies, white-faced and still, in the coffin--I draw near;
I bend down, and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the coffin.
Via
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I surely agree with you. I am fond of so many Requiems. Composers seem to feel free to let their inspiration soar when writing these. The Verdi one almost reduces me to a quivering puddle. And Mozart - ah, it is the voice of g-d indeed.
Somehow, I sensed you could not be a colouratura. I always hear your voice in my head as deep and soothing. LOL
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I agree with you about requiems. So often they are a composer's masterwork. I wish Beethoven had written one.
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