Through the gate in the high wall, he entered,
Into the silent square,
And saw the water rising from the fountain
And falling in exquisite threads,
From level to level,
And the gracious Cistercian monastery complex,
The pale brick walls and high arched windows,
The terraced slopes with ordered vines.
He wandered through empty halls,
Through sunlight and shadow,
And impossible harmonies
Menaced his soul.
A schoolboy about to crack up,
He could hear the forest in his veins.
The goal,too simple and brutal,
The freedom he held like a grasshopper in his hands,
Terrorized him with its mathematics.
The church organ suddenly started,
And called out stronger and stronger,
Profound rumbling chords
Interlacing with the lightest harmonics,
And all he could do was walk towards it,
Over the cliff of sound.
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