Farewell to Cluj 2018

Well, even the most beautiful things must come to an end, although in their beauty lies an assurance that they will live on.

Thank you, Academia de Muzică Gheorghe Dima, for your generosity and kindness towards me.

Thank you, Prof Banciu and Mrs Banciu, Adrian Pop, Edith Gergely and Oana Balan for looking after me so well.

Thank you, Mihaela Cesa-Goje and Jubilate Choir, for doing my work with such commitment and good results.

Thank you, Alexandru Murariu, Sebastian Țuna and Cristian Bence-Muk, for inspiring me with your vibrant music.

Thank you, Oana Andreica, Virgil Mihaiu, Cristina Şuteu and Bianca Temeş for stimulating conversations at Olivo.

Congratulations to International Festival Sigismund Toduța for a festival that keeps going from strength to strength.

Congratulations also to all the student composers and players, and to the participating professors, for all that splendid music.

It was a joy to see 'my' Year 4 again, and to meet the younger students - one of them a few months old.

Leaving Cluj this morning (18 May), the same words came back which I had begun to jot down on my mobile phone when leaving Cluj two years ago. I completed them just now. The short lines may look like a poem, but are not intended as a poem - unless one defines poetry as the inability to express thoughts in articulate prose. (A piece of music would take too long for this purpose.)

Un último beso a tus calles, Cluj,
una última caricia de mis ojos
a tus murallas.

Suena el rumor de tus bosques
en tu música
Toduță, Türk, Țăranu
Pop, Țună, Murariu.

Habla tu historia
de sangre y fronteras
de reinos e imperios
pasiones, pensamientos, iluminaciones
en los ojos de tu gente
en sus rostros, en sus rasgos.

Se oye tu pasado
en las voces onduladas
que pueblan el aire.

Tu presente
rompe murallas
alza barreras
sana heridas.

Vibras, Cluj,
y reverberas
con eco largo.
¿Cuándo terminas, y dónde?
Tus límites no se ven
aunque tu ausencia se sienta.

Resonarás, persistente
más allá del bosque
más allá de la razón.

Aún así,
largo se hará el tiempo
sin besar con mis ojos las calles
sin tocar los muros
sin sentir las voces
de Transilvania.