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A Paen to City Life

To be read aloud

You can Telemann by where he likes to live. I just Toch a trip Orff into one of the Wilder areas Faure Wieck, and to be Verdi Franck, it nearly drove Menotti. I know opinion Varese, but even Vivaldi urban noises, the Bizet traffic, De Falla engines, as well as knowing there are Mennin the streets Callas enough to knock your Bloch off. I couldn't resist the urge to Galuppi home early Satie, and I Haieff to say I Still prefer the Mitropoulos. The Boyce were Sor that I had Gibbons up and succumbed to the Riegger of the Field so easily, but I don't give a Schuetz.

I was practically Krein from my Severacs and Pains brought on by that brief time in the countryside! Even the sounds got my Dandrieu up; let me Liszt some of them: the Rorem of the wind, a constant Birtwhistle, the Menuhin of the Katz, the Lipatti- Patti-Glinka-Poulenc of the Reiner on the roof, the Gluck-Gluck of the hens, and every morning a woodpecker or some Byrd Chopin holes in a Tree. My only company was a Thorne Busch, a Partch of poison Ives, a Braun Babbit, and sometimes a Wolf, nothing Moore. For a Forrest Grainger it may be Fine - it may be the Katz Milhaud -- but I could have died of Borodin. A friend suggested my making this Tureck; "Abegg" his pardon, but I will never go Bach to those Gotterdaemmerung Hillis. They Suk!

No, I don't care for the Ruggles life. I like a good Mehul - - a little Suppe, some Szigeti, maybe some Salome at my local Taverner with a little lime Schubert after (even if they don't always clear the Crumbs off the table). And I like to Locatelli while I'm Eaton Maderna at night. Is that asking for Egk in Meyerbeer? Nono! So many people Berio themselves under a Holst of problems they know they can't Handel. Their answer is too Offenbach to nature - - into Haydn, it seems to me. I Karajan a d'Indy life in the Berg for the most Paert. Maybe it isn't Perle Bliss for everybody, but it's Godunov for me.