When the night is approaching, it seems most appropriate to listen to Chopin's nocturnes. I continue to play the very same album of Chopin's Nocturnes performed by Arthur Rubinstein. I read that Chopin's nocturnes generally require less technical skills than do his scherzos, sonatas and ballades. Yet, it is the emotional depth that I love in Arthur Rubinstein's playing.
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Then somehow, one's thoughts go in haphazard ways:
"Physical aches and pains remind me of my mortality. Yet, the will to do anything much is weak. Indulge in the beauty of the night. The night that is not all so beautiful, it comes with a tinge of pain. A tinge that actually runs very deep, but it is because of that melancholy, that makes the night so mysteriously beautiful."
"At times the moonlight shines on one's face. Fire-flies join in the play, fluttering about the entire garden. Then the darkness of the skies glowed mischievously in tinges of moving lights. That night full of wonders."
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