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Dancing of Sounds

There is a moonlight note
In the Moonlight Sonata; 
There is a thunder note
In an angry sky.
Sound unbound by nature Becomes bounded by art.
There is no competition of sounds Between a nightingale and a violin.
Nature rewards and punishes By offering unpredictable ways; Art is apotheosis; Often, the complaint of beauty.
Nature is an outcry, Unpolished truth; The art—a euphemism— Tamed wilderness.

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