Five or six Sixth Form students
who feigned a music society
to loan records from the educational association
was an irresistible temptation.
When you put on my Concerto for Orchestra
I entered the untidy room
and watched you all get up,
frightened at Bartók’s visit.
You stared at my 49 kilos,
my down-folded soft-leather boots,
but evaded my eyes
as if dazzled by welding flames.
I sat silent for what was about an hour
and raised a warming hand
if anyone tried to ask a question.
Then I abruptly got up and left.
Only in that way
could I remain among you.
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