I understand that ‘lent et douloureux’ is the tempo Satie intended for Gymnopédie No. 1, but Reinhart de Leeuw’s sluggish rendition slows it to such an agonising crawl that the melody all but evaporates. One longs for it to end, convinced that it ever will.
I would like to ask whoever curates @AppleMusic's 'Meditation Moments' classical playlist how Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 30 in E Major, Op. 109, can possibly be considered an appropriate choice.
It is summer in South Limburg, and one of my favourite sights is the baby blue blossoms of woodland forget-me-nots (Myosotis sylvatica) stilly adorning the waysides.
I recall being very pleased with it, thinking it would be the first of many such written pieces; but, in the end, typing was better suited to my process. The notebook no longer exists; but this photograph of it, the product of fancy and conceit, does.
Of the fifty-plus poems I wrote, only 'A Sunbird!' was ever jotted down on paper as a sketch, one of my earliest attempts at traditional nature poetry (2017).
The one to appear in the anthology has the actual bird call transcribed, doing away with my petty emotions and relishing only its wistful little whistle. I had an opportunity to photograph it in the autumn of 2020.
There are instances where I have two finished versions of a poem. This is the case with 'A Batis' (a South African songbird). Here is the discarded version.