15 The saner the stranger you go

15

The saner the stranger you go

The saner the stranger you go, and listen

The stranger the saner you go, and hear

A happiness a brief piston spinning

And it is cold in Beethoven's room

Over the crowd in the street, his

Mittened hands are cold as he beats

Out the keys on his wrecked Klavier

Deaf and cold in his workshop of the

Hearing mind and draughty cold

Of the room, large white doors clanging,

His misunderstood nephew

Checking in on him, shouting

"Uncle!' "Yes, yes, all fine boy!'

- Anatol Cordua (c) 2017