Beauty never ceases,
never stops to grow,
grows ever younger and more fresh
and more delightful with the years,
like some old oaken giant
with an ever more majestic crown
and greener leaves for every year,
more lush than ever
when it should have died so long ago.
Thus music also only grows more beautiful
the more its age increases,
like the classical string quartets
growing more enchanting
every time you hear and play them.
Only the exterior withers,
only the material values vanish,
while the soul matures forever
gilding everything with beauty that it touches
and the more so the more conscious and aware she is.
So flower on forever, beauty,
grow, increase and flourish
for your own sake, that your truth
may constantly make life worth while.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 420 times
Written on 2007-03-15 at 14:31
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