Cellos...
Deep and suppressed,
Gloomy…
Cello tries to be outstanding in the Jazz music. But saxophones wouldn’t stop attracting attention. Saxophone wants to lead the song. Cello can only follow its rhythm and perform inconspicuously.
Cello speaks its language cheerlessly. Each string that is plucked and vibrated holds a sorrow feeling. Bow that scratch along the string hurt it, as if a sharp knife is running across the skin of a baby. Melody that came out from its f-loch shakes the air and brings more tears to its eyes. Cello played in jazz music feeling miserable. It feels neglected and unimportant, playing a role of the unwanted ones.
No passer-by stops by the amplifier for its melody but people were amazed by how the saxophone has made the song so beautiful and soulful. And the audience notices the piano too, piano gets the applause. Spot lights above the stage shines for the pianist and saxophonist.
The dazzling reflection of the shiningly black color from the piano and the reflection from the polished saxophone have blinded the cello. Cello is left out, standing heavily with its satchel at the side of the stage, in the dark… The heavy burden of cello is felt by the floor where the satchel’s end pokes profoundly on the floor. At this very moment, only the floor’s caved-in comprehend the cello’s emotions.
Cello used to be a great solo instrument. It doesn’t need any company to reflect its capacity. Its melody alone was so heartrending. Violin was once its best partner but violin has parted from it 2 years, 3 months and 8 days ago. Violin was sold to a rich English family across the town. The son of the famous lawyer owns it now. Cello was left in the shop because of its pale color, Cello wasn’t as striking as the sold out violin. But the cello does not blame anyone because it was made by the old cello maker, the poor cello maker who was unable to afford an expensive painting material.
Deep and suppressed,
Gloomy…
Cello tries to be outstanding in the Jazz music. But saxophones wouldn’t stop attracting attention. Saxophone wants to lead the song. Cello can only follow its rhythm and perform inconspicuously.
Cello speaks its language cheerlessly. Each string that is plucked and vibrated holds a sorrow feeling. Bow that scratch along the string hurt it, as if a sharp knife is running across the skin of a baby. Melody that came out from its f-loch shakes the air and brings more tears to its eyes. Cello played in jazz music feeling miserable. It feels neglected and unimportant, playing a role of the unwanted ones.
No passer-by stops by the amplifier for its melody but people were amazed by how the saxophone has made the song so beautiful and soulful. And the audience notices the piano too, piano gets the applause. Spot lights above the stage shines for the pianist and saxophonist.The dazzling reflection of the shiningly black color from the piano and the reflection from the polished saxophone have blinded the cello. Cello is left out, standing heavily with its satchel at the side of the stage, in the dark… The heavy burden of cello is felt by the floor where the satchel’s end pokes profoundly on the floor. At this very moment, only the floor’s caved-in comprehend the cello’s emotions.
Cello used to be a great solo instrument. It doesn’t need any company to reflect its capacity. Its melody alone was so heartrending. Violin was once its best partner but violin has parted from it 2 years, 3 months and 8 days ago. Violin was sold to a rich English family across the town. The son of the famous lawyer owns it now. Cello was left in the shop because of its pale color, Cello wasn’t as striking as the sold out violin. But the cello does not blame anyone because it was made by the old cello maker, the poor cello maker who was unable to afford an expensive painting material.
Cello is slowly forgotten, disappearing from the stage. Its string is loosing slowing. The cello can only stays in its case, the old, fading red case, in the storage room. Leaning against the wall and spider webs are covering its case. Just like a funeral. A funeral attends by nobody. The earths are covering the coffin. And the spider webs are covering the pale red color of the cello case. Cello is forgotten and dying slowly. And the cello take its last breath when the forth string, the final string broke. A crispy breaking sound is the last moan for the cello’s life.
It dies. It crushes nobody’s heart.
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