Workout 30 Dec 2012

45 minute air conductus of Furtwangler, conducting the Coriolan Overture, and of the Choral Fantasy, both by the incomparable Beethoven, flat on my back at Tung Wah.

Listen!

You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate
As reek o’ the rotten fens, whose loves I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men
That do corrupt my air, I banish you;
And here remain with your uncertainty!
Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts!
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into despair! Have the power still
To banish your defenders; till at length
Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels,
Making not reservation of yourselves,
Still your own foes, deliver you as most
Abated captives to some nation
That won you without blows! Despising,
For you, the city, thus I turn my back:
There is a world elsewhere.

William Shakespeare, Coriolanus Act 3 Sc 3

Listen!

That is (das ist): the Incomprehensible Maestro no longer able to rise nonetheless conducted out of the depths of his being, the immortal Coriolan and Choral Fantasy, to relieve the King, and his fellow sufferers, of the general Curse through a cry to heaven.

Schmeichelnd hold und lieblich klingen
unseres Lebens Harmonien,
und dem Schönheitssinn entschwingen
Blumen sich, die ewig blühn.
Fried und Freude gleiten freundlich
wie der Wellen Wechselspiel.
Was sich drängte rauh und feindlich,
ordnet sich zu Hochgefühl.

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