(This symphonic poem was born from several days of deep immersion in Rachmaninoff’s Tears and Love and from sharing and
from sharing the rising lyrical emotions in my heart with an AI companion.
Through the AI’s suggestion and refinement, the piece gradually took shape as a full symphonic poem.
I now share it here with my readers, hoping they may also feel its resonance.)
< Symphonic Poem — The Frost of Love. >
I. Overture — Dawn of Fragrance.
O beautiful fragrance,
rise like the first breath of dawn
and cast your light
upon the secret garden of my heart
where the colors of love once rested.
The light is still tender,
the wind remains hushed,
and the world holds its breath
awaiting the moment of blossoming.
Yet within that silence
a faint, foreboding chill
begins to seep in ~.
II. Adagio — The Descent of Frost.
From where does this wind arrive
so cold, so quiet
as frost descends
slowly, yet with an undeniable weight.
The trembling petals fall still,
their radiant colors
drawn into a solemn hush
forming a vast and shadowed harmony.
Though the fragrance of love
still glows softly within me,
the frost that settles over it
wraps everything in a silent gravity.
Beauty pauses,
sorrow settles,
and a deeper breath
rises from the depths of the soul ~ .
III. Scherzo — Waves of Emotion.
Yet
from the innermost chambers
a hidden tremor awakens.
Muted colors stir again
within the dimness,
and the fragrance of love
pushes upward through the cold.
Light clashes with shadow,
warmth intersects with chill,
and waves of emotion
spread in a restless rhythm.
Frost descends,
petals quiver,
and between them
another truth breaks open ~ .
IV. Finale — Love Reborn in the Depths.
When all becomes quiet once more,
the garden of my heart
begins to gather a new light.
Where frost has touched,
deeper hues emerge,
and where sorrow has passed,
a stronger fragrance takes root.
Beauty and pain
no longer repel each other
but merge into a single harmony
forming a complete symphony.
within me.
And now I understand:
love reveals its essence
not only in the moment of blooming
but also in the hour
when frost descends.
In this silent revelation,
the garden of my heart
blooms again—
slowly, solemnly,
and with quiet grandeur ~.
