Ether of Forgotten Chords

Whisper of rain on the worn glass –
In the memories, a blizzard trembled slightly.
There, in the attic, in dust and haze,
The wood learns to sound like a dream.

Oh, the touch of palms… a foggy “once upon a time,”
A breath of the bow, as long as eternity.
Nerves and letters braided into knots,
Melodies fade, losing their familiarity.

Enough talk. Only pallor and sorrow.
The sheet of paper long ago withered from time.
Pain turns into a gentle hum –
A faded image from past lives.

The universe is ether. Shadow of hands on the wall.
In the empty hall – glass echoes.
The violinist weeps in the night’s distance,
Autumn pierces the days with needles.

Music – is higher. And the rest is empty.
The breath and tremor of rainy strings.
The violin, in silence, invisibly grows,
Melting into the quiet of living chords.