Day 199: Schubert’s Friend

---

I once heard a story about Franz Schubert…

 

When he was a young man, Schubert was poor.
So poor that
he couldn’t afford staff paper.

So he spent hours drawing five parallel lines across pages and pages of paper
that he might finally ornament them with

notes,

melody,

harmony,

silence,

cry,

victory,

anger,

joy,

sorrow,

fear,

peace…

 

He had a friend who took notice;
I don’t know his name –
or hers –
(it could have been a her.)

The friend watched Schubert –

a man who could fly
from his heart to his mind to his fingers
and carry others on the wings of it all –

drawing straight lines

straight lines

straight lines

straight lines

forever.

 

So the friend bought him staff paper
and promised an unlimited,
lifelong
supply
of paper
with printed lines,

so that Franz could spend his time
writing all the life
that he laced onto them,
like little black beads,
telling stories and keeping time.

I like to think of that friend.
I like to imagine that he (or she) left a note
on the parcel of paper
that read:

“Please hear,
please listen,
please draw the dots
as they’re given to you.

The song you play
shall lift us all 
and in this way
bring us closer 
to giver of the tune.

and I shall hold the lines for you.”

 

 

---

If you want to hear him, I share one of my favorite Schubert pieces: Trio op. 100 – Andante con moto