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Piano and Drums

This poem describes hearing jungle drums by a river in the morning that evoke primal instincts and a return to youth. The drums represent simplicity and a closeness to nature. In contrast, a wailing piano solo is then heard, speaking of complexity, distant lands, and new horizons through its musical techniques. However, the piano ends abruptly, leaving the listener lost in its complexities. The speaker is now lost between the simple rhythm of the drums and the complexity of the piano, wandering in the mist at the riverside.

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0% found this document useful (0 votes)
178 views

Piano and Drums

This poem describes hearing jungle drums by a river in the morning that evoke primal instincts and a return to youth. The drums represent simplicity and a closeness to nature. In contrast, a wailing piano solo is then heard, speaking of complexity, distant lands, and new horizons through its musical techniques. However, the piano ends abruptly, leaving the listener lost in its complexities. The speaker is now lost between the simple rhythm of the drums and the complexity of the piano, wandering in the mist at the riverside.

Uploaded by

Jay
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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PIANO AND DRUMS

BY Gabriel Okara (Nigeria)

When at break of day at a riverside


I hear jungle drums telegraphing
the mystic rhythm, urgent raw
like bleeding flesh, speaking of
primal youth and the beginning,
I see the panther ready to pounce,
the leopard snarling about to leap
and the hunters crouch with spears poised;

And my blood ripples, turns torrent,


topples the years and at once I’m
in my mother’s lap a suckling;
at once I’m walking simple
paths with no innovations,
rugged, fashioned with the naked
warmth of hurrying feet and groping hearts
in green leaves and wild flowers pulsing.

Then I hear a wailing piano


solo speaking of complex ways
in tear-furrowed concerto;
of far-away lands
and new horizons with
coaxing diminuendo, counterpoint,
crescendo. But lost in the labyrinth
of its complexities, it ends in the middle
of a phrase at a dagger point.

And I lost in the morning mist


of an age at a riverside keep
wandering in the mystic rhythm
of jungle drums and the concerto.

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