Friday, 26 December 2014

A poem by Victor Vroomkoning about Olivier Messiaen

Olivier Messiaen

Suffered from synaesthesia,
illness and imagery
at the same time, heard colours
like the first bird
that saw reflected
green when the wind stroked
audibly across the waters,
first music imitated
by his throat.

The wind sang green,
green sang the nightingale
green stroke the violins
of Messiaen, sweet-beaked
among the creators.

Saw the colours which his
fellow-creatures sang, fed them
into flute, piccolo, triangle,
recreated the lark,
rebreathed the first sigh.

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