I play Haydn after a black day
and feel an easy warmth in my hands.
The keys want. Gentle hammers strike.
The tone is green, lively and calm.
the tone says that freedom exists
and that someone didn't give the emperor tax.
I guide my hands down into my Haydn pockets
and mimic one who sees peace in the world.
I lift the Haydn flag - it says:
"We don't give up. But want peace."
The music is a glasshouse on the hillside
where the stones fly, the stones roll.
And the stones roll straight through
but every window pane remains whole.
