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The Cellist, He Plays On
by Jason Hannigan
The mortar shells detonate
Marking the break of dawn.
A despairing mother kneels to pray
And a cellist sits to play
A melody to pierce the heart.
He sings his protest every day
Until the war melts into art.
The siege was cruel and life had changed
But he could no longer be afraid.
His vibrato could rattle his shackles, he knew:
He’d fiercely serenade.
The regency tried to hide him
The snipers tried to find him
But music was all they found.
His adagio would counterpoint
The death littering the ground.
The mortar shells detonate
Marking the break of dawn.
A despairing mother can’t give in,
Her fierceness shines through strong.
His music may not change the world
But the cellist, he plays on.
11/12/2009 Author's Note: This is a poem about an event that happened during the Siege of Sarajevo from 1992-1996. At the site of an attack that killed 22 innocent people waiting for bread, a cellist played Albinoni's Adagio in G Minor every day for 22 days. Though the siege was the longest of any against a capitol in modern warfare, his playing gave many desperate citizens hope.
Posted on 11/12/2009
Copyright © 2026 Jason Hannigan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 11/12/09 at 06:48 PM Such a wonderful write! And ah, could music stop war how many mothers would take up an instrument? Music may sooth the savage heart but for others it emboldens them every bit as much as silence. Silence is of course the language of those who don't make it through the war. |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 11/12/09 at 10:26 PM ... I'm with George, a wonderful write..... |
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