Woman at the piano
I saw you sitting at the piano
and you seemed to me an angel, a virgin
of most certain appearance – as if you had
grown up there today upon those thresholds
of very swift music, or ferment
bright beauty of a woman with straight shoulders
those whose angel fingers enclosed
have imprinted a curve of mystery
while in outward appearance in joys
deep as if in new clothing.
And we all thought of you
profound things and more miraculous
than a peak of a dream, your sweet
dear presence dissolved our knots
within the blood of evil and lifted
our air into the happy throbbing
of your very fine blonde hair
Poetry by Alda Merini