Then the old man vanished
I don’t know where and when
he died or he ascended to
the heavens
and his companion eagle
also flew away from his side
and the violin, the most precious
treasure was left to me.
Play oh bow, play and
create a new world from
my hands in my two hands.
Oh a new race, oh you, new race
not the logos nor the song
not a sound from any mouth.
Only you exist, oh my violin
and there is only one tongue
and just one sound, yours,
which I, the player, create
and what creates the miracle
is none other but your music.
And if I’m a tree made
of chords and music
and nothing more, one sound
and one breath and one song
exist inside of me.
Manolis Aligizakis 