Liebesleid

My heart thumps

everytime

We’re all afraid

you know

to get up on stage



Maybe you’ll mess up

Maybe they’ll totally reject you

Even so,

you grit your teeth

and get up on stage anyway



There is

something that

compels us

moves us

to play music



Inviting long ago songs

into the modern air

Resurfacing stories

That others once wrote



Light glinting off dress shoes

as they squeak against

the polished wood floor

Coming to a stop in the center



All you can see is black

vague outlines of people

their faces framing your vision

like upturned flowers



Swinging up the violin

Like unsheathing a sword

The chinrest clamp digging into my collarbone

The pain distracts me



The fragile space

between the bow and the strings

remains

for only a moment



Breathing in the too cold air

bow gliding down the strings

the sharp, clear sound

echoes all around



The garden in front of me

seems to bloom

heads snapping upwards

trying to find the origin of the sound



Without music,

What would we be?

If you had never gotten up on stage,

How would you feel?



We live for that moment

sometimes only a second long

But the sweat and blood you put into the piece

finally shines through

the moment you become one

with the music



An unprecedented performance

one mishap after another

But none of it matters

as long as it can reach them

as long as they hear us

as long as we can play

In the hearts

of the people that have listened

And the people that will never forget





Because we’re musicians