Nature a singing-freshness, pulse and pace.
Dear András, in your natural art,one thing
Rings through the varied air - the urge to sing.
A constant tonic was what Bach once drew.
So, as you pour it, is this draught from you.
So, as I drink it, does my mind grow clear,
Clear too my dormant heart, my deadened ear.
How could I,like poor Goldberg, hope to sleep?
I laugh, surprised ny pleasure, and I weep.
For all of this my thanks: for storm, for calm,
For all that music is, both barb and balm.
Vikram Seth
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