To Ludwig Van Beethoven Poem by David Mitchell

Cecilia chose her greatest strains
To be by you alone conceived:
But Satan rose from hell's domains
And you of hearing were bereaved.

O cruel fate! You did no wrong
To bring this mischief upon you;
It was your lot to sing a song
Whose sorrow none before you knew.

What other man, in such a state,
Imprison'd in a silent hell,
Could so defy a certain fate,
And triumph over it so well?

Upon the brink of suicide,
(How much to us had then been lost!)
You cast your suffering aside,
And by life's waves were tempest-tossed.

How could your genius brain conceive
In silence sounds so marvellous?
How could the pow'r of hearing leave
You? How could you depart from us?

Condemn'd to suffer silently,
You did not, for you could not, hear,
And, with your back to us, did not see,
The thunderous applause and cheer.

Ev'ry musician's darkest dream:
A soundless world, which you lived in:
Our sympathetic tears will stream
For you, who fought your fiends - to win.

And on one gloomy afternoon
For ever cursed, you heaven defied;
You raised your fist to heaven, and soon,
Too soon, but fin'lly happy, died.

(Saturday,12th August,2006.)