The Piano is still there
Who silenced you, old music treasure,
spreader of such warmth and mirth?
Who put an end to living music
to replace it with but noise and junk box nonsense,
yelling concerts and the soaps of television?
Shall we never hear again the natural pure music
that is live and soft, melodious and musical?
I am afraid the evil goes much deeper.
Already when the first world war raged,
both poetry and music almost died,
gone to flowers in the trenches
and replaced with shell shocks
and the coming age of noise,
that in the 30’s overwhelmed the world
with the brutality of ugliness, autocracy and war,
sterility of cold materialism, functionalism and inhumanity
that killed off beauty and imagination in the arts
that all degenerated into modernistic nonsense.
Still it’s not too late.
We can shut off the telly nonsense,
we can do without the world of grim sillification,
and all that the piano needs is someone
to sit down and play.