Frank Corcoran

irish composer


Most clement clime, this Dé h-Aoine 1. 2012, neither aspis nor adder. Wherefore plaint, meine soule ?
( I quote Ezra Pound here- proves my point exquisitely , see below )
” I ? I ? I ? ” ( – A Lume Spento) I Pound´s fine line eg.
B/Pathos – who shall riddle me this ? Pound´s or mine ? Cor Inquietum ? Just faxed St. Augustine´s mother, saintly Monica, she the stately, proud, thankfully still mother of a lot of our Western woes. Still. Silentium. Ciúnas, a Mhonica !? Be still also , my texting text-soul.
Apparently the Violin Concerto is high ´n dry. The mighty, newly emerging, Cello Concerto bursts its cardiographic arteries symphonic, A Great Song in four mighty symphonic movements, my GREAT Soloist, Cellista, sweat-dripping.

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