Dear piano, you are sorely out of tune.
You mangle all the tunes I try to play.
I hope that we can fix you someday soon,
For you are getting worse with each new day.
The Beethoven sonatas aren't so bad--
they crash and roar and tumble all about.
The intonation makes me rather sad,
But there's a sense in which a shout's a shout.
For softer music, it is not the same.
Poor Pachelbel's sweet cannon cannot fight.
Despite its grandiose misnoming name,
your E-unnat'ral crushes out its might.
And so, dear piano, please don't be offended,
but I'll be glad when tunelessness has ended.
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2 comments:
I like it, but what's the true meaning that made you want to let other people discover this literature?
Sheer lack of anything else to say.
Dreadfully silly, isn't it?
But I don't want to let my poor blog die, because quite frequently I do have things I'd like to say.
So I wrote for the sake of acquainting myself with the sonnet, and posted for the sake of... posting.
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