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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=352754" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sometime at a concert hall, in recollection...</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=352754" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Sometime at a concert hall, in recollection,<br>A Brahms intermezzo will wound me-I'll start,<br>Remember that summer, the flowerbed garden,<br>The walks and the bathing, the tryst of six hearts,</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=352754" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The awkward, shy artist, with steep, dreamlike forehead,<br>Her smile, into which one would dive for a while,<br>A smile, as good-natured and bright as a river,<br>Her artist's appearance, her forehead, her smile.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=352754" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">They'll play me some Brahms-I will shudder, surrender,<br>And in retrospection the sounds will evoke<br>That faraway summer, the hoard of provisions,<br>My son and my brother, the garden, the oak.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=352754" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The artist would stuff in her overall pockets<br>Her pencils, and objects with fanciful names,<br>Or would, inadvertently dropping her palette,<br>Turn much of the grass into colourful stains.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=352754" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">They'll play me some Brahms-I'll surrender, remember<br>The stubborn dry brushwood, the entrance, the roof,<br>Her smile and appearance, the mouth and the eyebrows,<br>The darkened verandah, the steps and the rooms.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=352754" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And suddenly, as in a fairytale sequence,<br>The family, neighbours and friends will appear,<br>And-memories crowding-I'll drown in my weeping<br>Before I have time to have shed all my tears.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=352754" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And, circling around in a swift intermezzo-<br>Embracing the song like a treetrunk at noon,<br>Four families' shadows will turn on the meadow<br>To Brahms's compelling and childhood-clear tune</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Boris+Pasternak">Boris Pasternak</a></strong></div>

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