On the page it looked...
Nothing!
The beginning simple, almost comic.
Just a pulse.
Bassoons, basset horns...
like a rusty squeezebox.
And then, suddenly...
high above it...
...an oboe.
A single note, hanging there,|unwavering.
Until...
...a clarinet took it over...
...sweetened it into a phrase|of such delight.
This was no composition|by a performing monkey.
This was a music I had never heard.
Filled with such longing,|such unfulfillable longing.
It seemed to me I was hearing|the voice of God.
Excuse me.
But why?
Why would God choose an obscene child|to be his instrument?
It was not to be believed.
This piece had to be an accident.|It had to be.
It better be.
Негізгі бет W A Mozart Serenade For Winds; K 361; 3rd Movement
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