Mahler—Son Borne of the Street Song
Inspired by the life of Gustav Mahler and his last symphony, No. 9 in D Major
in the darkness
in the exile—there is a sigh, a number 9
there is a son borne of the street song, the injured timpani red drum
there is a town, Jihlava, a make-shift theatre &
rough-cut street dancers, there is a sky that welcomes him
his furious strings tasking the universe, his weaving of all things
the piccolo & the flute
oboes of furies tiny streams of burning slow breath
we wait in silence & face up
we notice the heavens the turbulence &
wild sharp strokes & pieces of banned color & banned voices
their outcast Jewish hymn takes us to the endless seas
unknown choruses unknown winds & collapsing worlds
we enter we follow we enter we halt we are halted
vanishing harmonies you walk through quadrants of space
music what is it one note encompasses everything
one oboe returns why
your life beginning your life almost ending then ending
what do you hear in this vastness this movement before you
unknown forces whirl violins & the dead
the director’s arms & hands sway shaking point dissolve
only still we stand now we only
left alone only Gustav Mahler lives on
by this bed this night this day this last cycle
falls into an ever returning descent of sound
a voice a voice do you hear it hear it
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