Violin Romance

Violin Romance

Like the midnight owl that sings its song,

Of romance that ignites the roses of the soul.

Like the gentle whistle of the angels of Neckar, that fire Cupid’s arrows,

A thousand moonlights that echo through this vessel of life,

 With violins that speak a truth that no tongue can sound.

It is the language of love, through the spirit of the bow.

Le cœurs des humains sont attirés par sa beauté.

The lord of violets sings his sweet song.

This is the violin romance.

Its warmth sweeps through the dusty streets,

And down the pathways, of old trees,

That the owl that sings the songs of beauty hides in.

Oh how I surrender to this beauty.

In the midst of the hours of the early morning

I hear the voice of ten thousand angels

That sing the song of prophecy, the song the owl has sung.

Through the echo’s of wood and bow.

Unlived, my fears and terrors,

The god of violets takes them from me, and replaces them with,

Ten thousand angels that sing to me,

With the voice of innocence and purity, which we call true love.

The incredibly incomprehensible, unquestionable and ubiquitous beauty of the violin,

 That saws through the soul with twirls and twists.

I thank him every day, for he has wrote the book to my soul

This is the love story of the violin and its romance.

For Ludwig Van Beethoven. The god of violets.

By David James Westlake