As a follow up to my last post, I add
these wonderful (sad) lines:
The song I have come to sing
remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my life
stringing and unstringing
my instrument.
—Rabindranath Tagore
And the photo is
appropriate, since it is of kilims I didn't buy in Santa Fe—beautiful, old,
beyond my price range. But I can love them from afar, love them this way,
in memory, and not feel too regretful.
As with the song I came to
sing, since I think I've just hummed along with several others. I've had
no shortage of music, my heart is glad to say.
image: Christie B. Cochrell, Kilims
No comments:
Post a Comment