I went to a memorial last night, for a singer.
This photograph is from 2015, a memorial sing for my father, who sang in three or more choruses here from 1996 until 2013. Actually he was raised singing and with music. My sister and I were raised singing, too.
My father and the singer we were remembering performed folk songs locally.
We sang last night. I chose a round.
all things shall perish from under the sky
music alone shall live
music alone shall live
music alone shall live
never to die
Here is a version sung in three languages.
With each new loss we remember the old ones: I miss my mother, my father, my sister. The round comforts me: all things shall perish, yet music alone shall live, never to die.
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