One night something odd happened.
There was one piece by D’Anglebert
his “Tombeau de M. de Charbonierres”.
A “tombeau” is an instrumental piece,
literally translating to “tombstone”.
It is intended to be a memorial piece
for a beloved
or even just a friend.

His is the only one in his oeuvre, and in
3/2 instead of the usual duple meter
that suggests a funeral procession

That night, for some reason,
as I turned the page
I had a funny thought: “Ha, I wonder
if he is remembering, (as I freshly did),
having to practice
VERY slowly.”
While I was playing I looked
at the tempo indication, a rare thing

“Fort, lentement”–“strong, slowly.”

I held the tiny harpsichord
I remembered spurning it over the years
for not having two keyboards,
for the strings often snapping,
for the plectrums being made out of cheap plastic;
none of that mattered now. I held it
tenderly
consoling it as if we were both
shedding the warm tears of humility
In the cold basement