I head this lovely piece this morning on the BBC Radio 3 Breakfast programme. Joshua Bell playing Robert Schumann's Träumerei (Dreaming). It has to be one of my favourite pieces of all time. (FYI, you can access most of BBC Radio 3's programmes via the link in the sidebar and clicking on "Listening Again.")
Oh! I just found this incredible version of the same piece, this time played on piano by Horowitz in Moscow in 1986! Brad and I attended a concert in the same hall in 2006 when we were in Moscow. It gave me shivers to think that Stalin used to sit in the same space for concerts. (I'm sure that used to give performers of the day shivers as well!) I want this played at my funeral. I can't imagine a more peaceful exit.
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For Once, then, Something (by Robert Frost)
Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
My myself in the summer heaven, godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
My myself in the summer heaven, godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
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