The French composer Gabriel Faure (1845-1924) was one of the foremost French composers of his time.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gabriel_Faur%C3%A9
Here are a couple of his beautiful piano nocturnes.
We’re sitting in a piano bar way-station nibbling tasty hor dourves and watching the runway. The room is full of cultured wealthy philanthropists and spiritual seekers; awaiting the shuttle flight to Heaven: Level 3/room 16
Nocturne #4
Nocturne #3
Ben
May 10, 2016 at 2:21 pmHi Jim. Still sounds great, like that waiting room at the international leave-port, leave your cares behind, it’s great to take off into another realm. Am I still here? It’s four years after the last comment and the poem still resonates.
Ben Leet
October 13, 2011 at 3:52 pmAll those words about clear water, streams under moonlight: limpid, crystalline. Very clear pianist, I like the interpretation.
I’m looking at my CD of The Complete Songs of Gabriel Faure, vol. 3 put out by Hyperion. http://www.hyperion-records.co.uk/dc.asp?dc=D_CDA67335&vw=dc
Check out # 4, 7, 30. I like them all. Here’s a poem by Alice Duncan, Dhuni Fire: They lit the spent garlands to a blaze / in the stone circle / and, but for the applause of the flames, / all was still. / Then, one by one, approaching the fire / with sandalwood wands in our hands, we tossed them in, and tried to let fall our most infamous desires. / We have prayed to give them up. / They will burn now, hotter / and harder to ignore — but, like a fire, / they’ll consume the fuel and leave . . . / who knows where they go? / Dark as the ego’s shadow, / the sky prepares to loose the stars / and let them fall, like the flowers which, once star-fresh on the tomb, / have become coals / throbbing like a blue heart / in the cool circle of the Asian night. / Under the trees’ thirsting limbs / it is sung: Godman. Godman. / May my heart, this time, approach / the threshold of that word. — I doubt you want to publish this, but something clicked. Thanks for the Faure.