The Song of Silent Hands (jazz version)2

In the dimly lit hall, an old pianist sits, His heart alert, memories weaving intricate bits. Once, his fingers danced upon the keys, A symphony of stardust, melodies with ease. , As a young virtuoso, he graced the stage, His hands gliding, a tempest in a cage. Notes soared, twirled in the air’s embrace, Birds set free, melodies without a trace. , But time wove its relentless thread, Smoothed the edges of his once-bold tread. Joints that once flexed with grace and fire, Now echo distant tunes, a fading lyre. , He recalls applause, tears of emotion, Eyes wide with wonder, critics’ devotion. Each note a voyage to infinity’s shore, Each chord an embrace with the cosmic core. , Today, his hands tremble, wearied and frail, Arpeggios silenced, scales left to sail. He weeps silently, injustice etched in time, His hands no longer play, yet his soul still chimes. , The piano stands, mute and understanding, Its keys waiting for the magician’s commanding. The old pianist, eyes misted with reverie, Listens to silence—a cradle for memories free. , And in that solitude, he finds solace’s kiss, For though his hands are silent, his heart persists. Music, immortal, resonates deep within, A distant star’s echo, a hymn that won’t dim. [end] Today, his hands tremble, wearied and frail, Arpeggios silenced, scales left to sail. He weeps silently, injustice etched in time, His hands no longer play, yet his soul still chimes. , The piano stands, mute and understanding, Its keys waiting for the magician’s commanding. The old pianist, eyes misted with reverie, Listens to silence—a cradle for memories free. , And in that solitude, he finds solace’s kiss, For though his hands are silent, his heart persists. Music, immortal, resonates deep within, A distant star’s echo, a hymn that won’t dim. [end] And in that solitude, he finds solace’s kiss, For though his hands are silent, his heart persists. Music, immortal, resonates deep within, A distant star’s echo, a hymn that won’t dim. [end]