音乐陪着她走过了一生,见证了贫穷,绝望,甚至死亡,但平实的黑白给了她彩色的世界,她神往,她敬仰,她你妹的109了居然还弹得这么屌(这个反差怎么样? ^^)。最后附一首小诗吧:
Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.
In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
to the old Sunday evenings at home, with the winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.
So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.
— David Herbert Lawrence 1985-1930 Great Britain