Apassionato

(in remembrance of Bizet’s Les Pecheurs de Perles: Au fond du temple saint”)

And when they were lost,

how they found

sound,

alive in the voice of a wave,

gave

each to the other his place,

grace,

transcendent, grieved and unbound.

And in front of the Temple, they merged,

purged,

restrained in the ecstasy shared,

paired,

and in tremulous arias cried,

died,

alone, and together resurged.

There, the music too deep to be learned

burned,

like a sanctified song at its birth,

worth

a more glorious sum than they paid;

made

in the embers to which they returned.

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