Playing It Languorously Poem by Margaret Alice

Listening to Beethoven’s Moonlight
Sonata on my Naxos DVD that Nici
copied for me, but the pianist does
not feel the same pain I do when
I play it – much too slow and with
many wrong notes of course – but
I love playing it languorously, feel
the notes becoming sighs changing
into passionate cries of pain and
deception, feelings of such infinite
depth that no-one can reach or
fulfill them, pulling at my heart-
strings until it feels as if they will
break – but not so this note-perfect
pianist, he plays unconcerned, there
is no pain or desperation, no mad
exclamations in his rendition, he
is as cold as a block of ice in his
cool and calm execution…