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MUSIC, by                    
First Line: The old songs / die
Last Line: Are all that is left of sarasate.
Subject(s): Death; Singing & Singers; Dead, The; Songs


The old songs
Die.
Yes, the old songs die.
Cold lips that sang them,
Cold lips that sang them --
The old songs die,
And the lips that sang them
Are only a pinch of dust.

I saw in Pamplona
In a musty museum --
I saw in Pamplona
In a buff-colored museum --
I saw in Pamplona
A memorial
Of the dead violinist;
I saw in Pamplona
A memorial
Of Pablo Sarasate.

Dust was inch-deep on the cases,
Dust on the stick-pins and satins,
Dust on the badges and orders,
On the wreath from the oak of Guernica!

The old songs
Die --
And the lips that sang them.
Wreaths, withered and dusty,
Cuff-buttons with royal insignia,
These, in a musty museum,
Are all that is left of Sarasate.





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