Scene: a small graveyard surrounding the church of St Mark outside Vienna, 7th December 1791 beside a common grave. Present: Sussmeyer, Salieri, Baron van Swieten.
Shivering in the cutting East wind, I gaze about.
Where are all the people?
There should be crowds.
Why aren’t people lined up ten deep around
this insignificant hole?
This death affects the entire world.
Babes unborn will be lulled by his work.
Generations to come will mourn
this life cut short unjustly.
The scent of crushed grass tickles my nostrils,
Making my eyes water unaccountably.
Grown men don’t cry. Do they?
The Poet’s Pub suggests that we write a ‘history’ poem – our own, or someone else’s, recent or back in the past.
The greats often died young. In those days, conditions were hard; prodigies such as Mozart were indeed carted around like so much luggage by exploitative parents (or sold into choirs and castrated if they showed Soprano promise, only to be thrown onto the streets later if their voices were not up to par… eunuchs without homes. Mozart was lucky he was a pianist in that way!). And his lifestyle, candle lit at both ends, squandering what he had when he had it… the true Bohemian, in all his brilliance as well as his shortcomings. I don’t think he would have wanted to live to be an old man, chance his genius fading… GREAT write, Viv, Amy.
This is a wonderful piece, Viv. Well done.
I guessed this was going to be about Mozart when I saw that Salieri was there. I wonder what our world would be like if Mozart had not died so young. Could we survive so much beauty this side of whatever is next? Brilliant poem, Viv. I tried removing my Twitter Follow Me button…could you let me know if that corrected the problem with my blog?
Dratted twitter! Who needs it? Yes, I can go straight in now, with no awful warning. Yippee.
Is that true that he died in obscurity? I loved the play Amadeus on Broadway with Ian McKellen and then the film with F Murray Abraham . . . I should have guessed! A great choice and a great reflection for this irony.
Yes, and extreme poverty. The three I named were the only mourners at the funeral. The film was good, but a lot of it was fictionalised. We went to a lecture by the conductor and musicologist Doctor Jane Glover, who wrote the book Mozart’s Women: His Family, His Friends, His Music.
Mozart’s childhood was particularly hard on his health – his father dragged Ludwig and his sister around Europe for several years showing off his prodigies. They travelled by coach through horrendous conditions, performing here, there and everywhere.
The famous and talented who were not known in their lifetime invariably ended ordinary or worst in a pauper’s grave! A sad truth it is, Viv! Nice write!
Hank
but the babies are crying…they always cry…
events cocatenated
I would have had no idea but from the other responses!!
Unimaginably sad. Unimagineable actually. I find that even thinking about it makes me want to weep and, of course, when I listen to the music. Hard to believe such perfection is possible, and that it could have been lost untended. k.
That is so beautiful!
What a great line: “Babes unborn will be lulled by his work.” And this: “Making my eyes water unaccountably.”
yep…mozart… how many of the really great ones died without many taking notice…
As soon as I saw ‘Salieri’, I knew who it was. ‘Amadeus’ did a better job of telling us about him than about Mozart
well i suppose the powerful expression of his life is evident despite the physical self returning to earth so simply.
i guess i could have just looked at the tag…ha…but it was fun treasure hunting…smiles…
and a great one passes into a middle class funeral…mozart right? the names were a great help in identifying it, it was prickling at the edge of thought and google helped push me over the edge…smiles…