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Dancing of Sounds

There is a moonlight note

In the Moonlight Sonata;

There is a thunder note

In an angry sky.

Sound unbound by nature

Becomes bounded by art.

There is no competition of sounds

Between a nightingale and a violin.

Nature rewards and punishes

By offering unpredictable ways;

Art is apotheosis;

Often, the complaint of beauty.

Nature is an outcry,

Unpolished truth;

The art—a euphemism—

Tamed wilderness.