Translation/Aphasia by Isabella Bosetti

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Translation/Aphasia By Isabella Bosetti ‘18 After a concert by the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir I. “borne invisible” The chapel’s walls still ring with songs from long ago; it’s in their bones. The masons hid them under stones and laid foundations deep and strong. II. “a good work upon me” A shiver runs from pew to pew in search of mortal instruments— our bodies aural ligaments aligned by the conductor’s cue. We hold; we’re tools and tunes to play. His fingers feel for something that eludes our gaze: a ziggurat of airy walls and precious prey. He wraps his arms around the beast and tears it loose from the crevasse. Its length uncoils beneath stained glass and offers us a mighty feast. III. “(screaming)…and for it to cease” There’s something here: I feel its gaze upon my nape and see its age as it ascends to center stage and gathers up each song of praise for what’s a paean sung alone? It slithers in between the notes, eyes brushing hair and tracing throats, and scoops up every wail and groan.

The walls are golden now with seams of chanted words that join their kin,

but rather than a raucous din these old songs murmur the new scheme and raise their voices with the choir— they must, for tones this pure and true are square within divine purview, and lift our souls to heav’n and higher.

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