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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