Not far from Van – close enough?
photograph by Jon Walton
Will never again raise his baton, but The orchestra plays Tashkent,Bukhara, Samarkand.
Wind is a thread Hanging from distant mountains.
Steppe grasses hiss And sand, more sand, blows.
A pony waits, Feet together, head down.
Dusk drifts like a violet scarf Across day’s face,
Hush, hush, quiet, Still.
Here at time’s end there is salt But no tears.
Borodin composed a wonderful piece of program music entitled “In the Steppes of Central Asia”. I took the liberty of adding some words to the program. This is one of my favorite poems and the Fictionique site finally offered it a home.
Link to Borodin: