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9.

“We enter this evening as we enter a quartet Listening again for its particular note The interval where all seems possible, Order within time when action is suspended And we are pure in heart, perfect in will.

We enter the evening whole and well-defended But at the quick of self, intense detachment That is a point of burning far from passion–– And this, we know, is what we always meant And even love must learn it in some fashion, To move like formal music through the heart, To be achieved like some high difficult art.


We enter the evening as we enter a quartet Listening again for its particular note Which is your note perhaps, your special gift, A detached joy that flowers and makes bloom The longest silence in the silent room–– And there would be no music if you left.”

 

–Evening Music, May Sarton



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