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The lingering sunlight from the dawn kissed my eyelids and I could hear faintly the flock of big birds, whose breed was unbeknownst to me, chirping merrily outside window ,as if to greet the exuberant face of a new day. I rushed to the table of my unfinished work of late last night  and was ecstatic that spirit I had gulped assisted me with the groundbreaking idea on the ink blotted papers. Now my task was to enkindle it and bear its meticulous body to the end. Then the time of my pleasure arrived ,I set the kettle on fire and started mediating by counting the coffee beans near the piles of jumbled papers amidst the scent of vapor of boiling water around the room.

A soft touch was on my shoulder and startled me a bit. I found it belonged to my housemaid who seemed to enter my room furtively. She wasted no time writing on the little blackboard beside me :

"Sorry ,sir, for my taking liberties with this.I have called you several times and I am beginning to cook something for you."

I smiled and nodded with gratitude that she didn't harbor resentment against my bad temperament and mistreatment of her.She was a woman with a milk of human kindness ; the poor soul had to endure her 3 unruly children and husband who was a cantankerous drunkard. My work was carried on and accompanied by a hot coffee and a pair of delicious sandwich.I then switched to another unfinished work and stretched to the piano nearby. Alas, my delight turned to be a horror as the sound of its keyboard thumped by my fingers became a thud again ,even bigger than yesterday.I felt the heat running around my face and stopped the work before turning to finish the letter written yesterday as I struggled to find the solace in the figment of my imagination of her.

...now deafness is exacerbating my pride ,like the unsavoury plague that has been devouring my sanity.But I am still elated by the reverie of thy pretty pale face.Thy sparkling blue eyes get me spellbound and swallow all my stranded heart. Oh ,how I long to kiss thy sensuous lips and hope someday our souls would be in unison with resounding chorus of seraphim in heaven.My dear angel, My immortal beloved.

                               B.

A touch was on my shoulder again ,and now it was XXX , my wealthy friend who himself proclaimed that he was a fervent follower of my cult (actually he was my generous patron and I didn't establish any cult).His skill at playing piano was mediocre ,but he could enthral all the guests in the birthday party of his beautiful fiancee.XXX admired me for being the composer who had pushed the envelope all the time.Nonetheless,I didn't actually knew whether it was fulsome praise or sarcasm.

I tried to read the almost illegible handwriting on his own blackboard :

"I have knocked twice,sir, and now I am finding my maestro is desperately head over heels."

I briskly folded the letter and kept it in a locked drawer. Both of us had conversed in a not so amiable manner for a while about my overdue musical work from a promise.It also escalated to his remark of the public's annoying anticipation of my performance and less and less handsome salary I ought to have had.The young frisky fellow suddenly noticed that I was in a brooding mood ,and departed.

Now the glowing sun in spring was elevated in the sky like the lantern with eternal fire.It shone through my window and created the silhouette of me and table into the wall.The little gaudy bird descended on the windowsill and pecked the crumb of bread I had left for it ,before it dashed to the large tree nearby.I went on jotting down the notes from the images ceaselessly swirling in my head, not bothering the poor piano again.I was sometimes interrupted by the whines of a baby and the muffled sound of their parents to comfort it in the next room .It was so loud that even my troublesome ears found it irritating , but the sounds of my piano and even my horrible blaring voice had disturbed them as well.

My work met the stumbling block again; it lacked the passions of real scenery my music determined to carry the listeners to.My housemaid came to my rescue by reminding me about the lunch before the hired carriage would come to pick me up to take a stroll. Normally, I would wander around the city, but today the whereabouts was quite far-off and apparently imparted me the passions my work or perhaps my life was now yearning for.

After lunch ,I was waiting patiently for the carriage on the promenade of stiff cobblestone below the hill where my apartment is standing. The passersby lifted their hats to greet me, but many times their accompanying wives or lovers sneaked at me and giggled. I observed the blossoming yellow flowers in a small garden behind me. I didn't really know their name but enthused over their gracious and serene presence. The cold breeze shook their tiny petals and engulfed me so gently like a woman's embrace. Now I was jolted by a little epiphany and wrote down name of a new work on my notebook.

The Pastoral Symphony ....

Tomorrow if I met my young patron , I would probably present him my complete work that was different from symphonies by other composers, thanks to its 5 movements including the very fact it was soul searching and very programmatic as it described the bucolic nature around me from this trip hereinafter.

I.Allegro Ma Non troppo

Awakening of joyous feelings upon arrival in the country

The horse-drawn carriage gradually took me out of the bustling streets and the boisterous city.It was galloping on the narrow and dusty road coupled with the fields and the sparse forests.I stepped out of the vehicle with unusual euphoria. And it left me alone near the lush field embellished with abundance of the uncultivated yellow corns like smithereens of priceless gold. The worn-out scarecrows stood desolately on the pole like their weary guardian. I was ensconced on the soft and humble grass indulging myself with the marvel of the creations in my secret tryst. My pleasantness was only defiled by the sounds around myself ,which were in deplorable obscurity.

II.Andante molto mosso

Scene by brook

I ambled along the forest beside the cornfield. The afternoon sun appeared as an exhausted companion ,hiding his face behind the long stripes of clouds, and then grew strong again.I gleefully found the little brook tucked away behind the bushes. The gleam of sunlight penetrating the tree's leafy branches made the water glittering with the shoal of cheerful fish swimming below.The frog with uncanny eyes jumped into the brook.I sat down and let its cold tide caress my calf gently.A seedling and a green moss covering the teeny pile of pebbles near my hand conveyed a sense of tranquillity to me.

III.Allegro attacca

Happy gathering of country folk

My hour-long stroll led me to the little remote village and the peasants were all cavorting with the song and dance.I watched them from afar in awe.I could not hear their sounds, but I was able to delve into their feeling of joviality after all-day travails.I wondered if I had visited them ,would they have welcomed this disheveled and strange city dweller ? Perhaps I could have learnt about their destitute and miserable lives, along with the bitter taste of homemade wine.

IV.Allegro

Thunder and Storm

Unexpectedly, the clouds that looked like a gigantic lump of cotton assembled rapidly to turn dark and unleashed the pouring rain. The ensuing storm also took the dancing peasants by surprise.They scattered and ran to the nearby hut. The leaves were helplessly whirled in eddies of a fierce wind ; all the trees and the bushes were wobbling as if to show obsequious gesture to the almighty lord.I took the refuge in the deserted little barn and could see the flashes of thunder which did not intimidate me at all because their sounds were completely dull.

V.Allegretto

Shepherd's song. Cheerful and thankful feelings after the storm

All of a sudden ,the storm and thunder vanished ,letting the rain to be just drizzling and disappear .From a distance emerged the rainbow which was subdued by a blaze of evening sun through the dispersed clouds..The miracle happened! , I could hear so clearly the resounding horn from a young shepherd.It was like the tune of ancient song as if to herald the triumph of human's hope.The peasants gaily walked out of the hut and said a prayer.

My eyes brimmed with tears. I was thinking about the agony of the peasants and my housemaid. This was also including myself who had to cope with increasing deafness and unrequited loves.I was abruptly illuminated that an unbearable life was actually the compass for us to walk in the flower garden of heaven to appreciate the magnificence around us ,notwithstanding how we had kept ignoring them as a result of their mundanity. After the storm ,our lives will be blessed with the light shining through the dark.

The curtain of night was pulled down to show off a myriad of twinkling stars chaperoning the young crescent moon. The afterglow still abode in the forlorn mountain. I loitered near the same cornfield and saw the carriage with flickering lantern rushing towards me.

I realized that my work had already been finished.

บล็อกของ อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์

อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
    อุปรากรที่คนไทยน่าจะรู้จักไม่แพ้ Madame Butterfly ก็คือ Carmen ซึ่งเป็นอุปรากรฝรั่งเศสที่แต่งโดยคตีกวีที่เราไม่เคยคุ้นเคยนักและก็ไม่ถือว่าดังเหมือนเบโธเฟนหรือโมซาร์ทคือจอร์จ บิเซต์ เขาเน้นไปที่การแต่งอุปรากรและอุปรากรก็ดังแค่ไม่กี่เรื่อง แต่พฤติกรรมตัวเอกของ Carmen ทำให้อุปรากรเรื่อ
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
                               
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
   Bicycle Thief เป็นภาพยนตร์ขาวดำสัญชาติอิตาลี ที่ออกฉายในปี 1948  และมักถูกจัดว่าเป็นตระกูลนวสัจนิยมหรือ Neo Realism ที่สะท้อนชีวิตของคนรากหญ้าเป็นหลัก   หากใครที่ไม่คุ้นเคยกับภาพยนตร์ตระกูลนวสัจนิยม ก็ลองไปดูภาพยนตร์สมัยทศวรรษที่ 10 และ 20 ของท่านมุ้ยเกี่ยวกับชีวิตของคนตัวเ
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
อาชญากรรมและการลงทัณฑ์เป็นชื่อแปลมาจากภาษาอังกฤษคือ Crime and Punishment ซึ่งเป็นนวนิยายชิ้นเอกของนักเขียนนามอุโฆษชาวรัสเซียคือฟีออดอร์ ดอสโตเยฟสกี (Fyodor Dostoevsky) ผู้มีชีวิตในช่วงระหว่างปี 1821 จนถึงปี 1881 เขาเป็นที่รู้จักอย่างดีในนวนิยายเรื่อง Brothers Karamazov ที่แสนจะยาวเหยียดและซับซ้อน
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
เมื่อพูดถึงอันโตนีโอ วิวัลดี (Antonio Vivaldi) คนก็ต้องนึกถึงเพลงยอดนิยมของเขาคือ Four Seasons หรือฤดูกาลทั้ง 4 (ต่อมา กลายเป็นชื่อโรงแรมอันอื้อฉาว) เป็นอันดับแรก ทั้งที่คีตกวีท่านนี้มีผลงานออกมาเป็นจำนวนมาก
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
    เฮอร์มันน์ เฮสเส เป็นนักเขียนแนวจินตนิยม (Romanticism) และแนวอัตถิภาวนิยม (Existentialism) ที่ประทับใจผมมาก เริ่มจากการถูกอาจารย์ที่มหาวิทยาลัยบังคับให้อ่านหนังสือของเขาที่คนไทยรู้จักกันดีคือ สิทธารถะ จากนั้นเมื่อได้อ่านเรื่องอื่นๆ ที่คนไทยคืออาจารย์สดใสแปลไม่ว่า ปีเตอร์คาเมนซิน &nb
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
   
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
แปลมาจากบทความของคุณอิลิซาเบท ชวาร์ม เกลสเนอร์  จาก www.w3.rz-berlin.mpg.de Symphony No.1, Op.21 
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
   
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์
                                           
อรรถสิทธิ์ เมืองอินทร์