Brother Adam writes about things that are irretrievably lost, except in memory, in his piece “The Death of Eurydice” in his blog.  You can find the whole thing here.  But to whet your appetite, here is where the penny dropped and he realized why he was resisting writing a piece:

I was enjoying Haydn’s brilliant but not always deeply moving music when, at the end of the second act, something I had completely forgotten: the death of Eurydice. The music dims in volume as Eurydice describes her emotion as the poison in her body takes effect:
Del mio core il voto estremo
dello sposo io vo’ che sia.
Al mio ben l’anima mia
dono l’ultimo sospir.
Bartoli sings with such pathos that I was suddenly drawn into the music, into what was happening, in a way I have not been for a long time. As I listened to her, I could feel part of me dying with her.

Then it was time for Compline, and what would the first psalm be but 88:
my life is at the brink of the grave.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I have become like one who has no strength….
My friend and my neighbor you have put away from me,
and darkness is my only companion.
It would be an overstatement to say that I was undone. But tears came.

Advertisements