Early Music I

Poem Info
244 words
5
2.8k
1
5
Poem does not have any tags

Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 03/18/2021
Created 01/09/2011
Share this Poem

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
fridayam
fridayam
50 Followers

"La Folia" (anon.)

The world's first Number One?
Portuguese, a shepherds' dance implying
madness or extreme joy
--it must have been a hoot to dance it,
fast and sweaty, erotic too
away from all those sheep.
When Columbus bumped into the Americas
they were dancing it at court,
laughing at the shepherds but still
loving the music and the
blind mad whirl of skirts and hearts.
But in that whirl there is a plaint
and someone, no doubt late at night,
slowed it down to make a
Sarabande of such sadness that it
stirred the souls even of those
who had lost their minds to its
lusty, throbbing rhythm only
the night before.

The faster, fleeter dance had already
passed the porous Pyrenees
into Provence and thence to Paris,
stirring French feet.
It's slower brother followed, via
slender staves on brittle paper,
into brittle minds suspicious of
newfangled things.
By Spanish conquest it invaded the Americas:
by Spanish possession it infiltrated Italy,
the Netherlands too, from whence it
seeped into England where poor people
whooped to dance to the Follies of Spain while
Armadas came and went and
Dutch fought Spanish fought English
all dancing to the same tune
and laughing as they danced.

Meanwhile, men who made their living playing
viols or theorbos or clavecins
spent their silent nights
mining the music's melancholy heart
so that even when two hundred years
of thunderous feet fell silent
the plangent chords went
echoing on.

fridayam
fridayam
50 Followers
Please rate this poem
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
5 Comments
lostchickenlostchickenover 13 years ago

First three lines, I wasn't sure but by the time I reached the end, I was in awe! This is a really interesting and inviting piece. As a kiwi girl surrounded by sheep, I pictured the early shepherds well and couldn't help the giggle that escaped at the scene.

The last verse - exquisite (altho I had to look up plangent).

Thanks for sharing.

PoetGuyPoetGuyover 13 years ago
Poet Guy thinks this is the best poem he has seen from you, fridayam,

and enjoyed it thoroughly. He makes his standard quibble about "it's" where he believes "its" would be correct, and is a little nervy about "plangent" (though the definition seems to fit really well--he just would prefer a plainer word there), but otherwise has nothing to say other than to repeat how much he liked the poem.

Esperanza_HidalgoEsperanza_Hidalgoover 13 years ago
Liar

has it pegged. Nice again, fridayam.

LiarLiarover 13 years ago
Meanderings on music

Evocative while still being grounded. To wax poetic on a song can easily fall prey to too many a metaphor and too elaborate, abstract and flowery a language. But you keep it simple and focus on the people whose lives the music touch. I like that. I also like how it shifts gewars back and forth, from playful to somber and back.

Best passage:

...someone, no doubt late at night,

slowed it down to make a

Sarabande of such sadness...