Strawberry Orange Star Night

I. Conespressione

The Steinway piano in the church has a very pure sound.Even the simple quarter notes of the nursery rhyme part at the beginning of the music, played from this piano and echoed among the towering vaults, are clear, full and full of grain.

What a voice!Even though he had heard the timbre of the piano before and played it himself in rehearsals, Naranja still couldn't help admiring it from the bottom of his heart.He bit his lip and laughed silently.The left hand still kept playing legato, and the right hand ran sixteenth notes at the right time. The music became lively and joyful, and it was the sound of the stars laughing and playing... The immature nursery rhymes were put on gorgeous chromatic dresses, and the lively and lovely variations began.

Ah! Vous Dirais-je, Maman!

The flickering little stars poked their heads out from behind the night curtain one after another, jumping and dancing for joy, and got into the bright and flawless skirt corner of the moon like a hide-and-seek.They blinked their crystal clear eyes, like naughty children chirping around their mother, talking endlessly: ah!Mom, please listen to me!

Oh, Naranga... what are you going to tell me?

Naranja closed his eyes, and the dilapidated house of his childhood appeared in his mind.When mother came back, she patted the apron, her voice was soft like a song, her eyebrows and eyes were stretched, and she showed a gentle smile to herself.It was she who made this poor house a home.He happily ran towards her, took her hand, brought her to the drain bottle he had carefully prepared, and played the melody for her, the lullaby she sang to him every night...

My little star!Mom's voice trembled.Before she finished speaking, she hugged Naranja tightly into her arms.He looked up in her arms and saw tears in her beautiful grape-colored eyes.The swaying water bottle in memory turned into the black and white keys in front of you, and the crisp sound of ding ding dong dong was also submerged in the colorful chords and arpeggios.The notes in the treble part of the right hand are like water drops, just like the hot tears from my mother in the past, quietly blending into Nalanga's fortune.

Did you hear that?

Did you see it?

This starry sky is dedicated to you...

Naranja's hands were always running deftly on the keys.He plays the main melody alternately with left and right hands, but it doesn't stop there.He blended the numerous thoughts lingering in his heart at this moment into this beautiful music, and he improvised on the basis of the original song.The already very gorgeous temperament has been added with many decorative notes and chords that are not on the sheet music, the music texture has become more diverse, and the canon-style variations have made the theme more deeply rooted in the hearts of the people.

Music is the language of the soul.Everything is so simple and straightforward, straight to the heart.In this continuous beautiful melody, there is his love for his mother, his desire for music, and...

The music gradually slowed down.During a beautiful breath with raised arms, Naranca raised his head and looked into the depths of the church dome.

——Naranka saw Fugo.His figure gradually became clear in the backlight, and Nuan Yang drew a soft golden border on him.

The warp speed dropped to its slowest at this point.The brilliance of the sky softened, flickering in the velvet night, peaceful and soft, peaceful and noble.It's Fugo's eyes, Naranja thought.

Naranga, would you like to play a real piano?

The beautiful amethyst starlight shines from a silent place, from far to near, like a lighthouse hidden in the clouds and mist on the vast ocean, lighting up the light deep in the eyes of lost travelers.

Fugo stretched out his hand towards himself in the dark alley.

The last variation jumped out happily, pushing the theme to a colorful climax.The sixteenth notes of the left hand flow like the waves of the Milky Way, and the right hand also joins in and runs together after a few bars of chords.

He couldn't believe it.That was the world that he had dreamed about day and night, and that he thought was out of reach——he tentatively stepped forward, taking one step after another.

All the notes are played crystal clear and radiant.Naranja's hands were excited at the same time, and he pressed the keys decisively and neatly. With the force of f, he stood up the chord enthusiastically and brilliantly——

He finally grasped the hands in the light.He strode forward bravely in a new world of music flowing.

II. Allargando

The last group of quarter note chords landed powerfully, like a bell, echoing under the vault of the church and between the walls.After two brief rests, the deafening applause drowned out the lingering sound and lasted for a long time.

"Bravo!"

Fugo uttered the first praise.The song is really beautiful, and Naranja has achieved amazing growth during the time she was away from home.Not only did the repertoire become more complete, but he even added so many amazing improvisations to the melody, such as tempo, timbre, lively and lovely embellishments... all of which surprised Fugo.But this is all within reason.Naranja has such a talent.He stood up and kept clapping vigorously, unwilling to stop until his palms hurt.

Naranja put his hands down from the keys, turned his head and looked at Fugo for the first time.His grape-like purple eyes were sparkling with stars, and there was a big smile on his face.Fugo was infected by his joy, and couldn't help laughing along with him.

After meeting their eyes for a moment, Naranja stood up, looked away, and bowed in three different directions to the audience.Another lady from the audience came forward to present a bouquet to Naranja, but Fugo didn't care anymore.Unlike before, he is surprisingly calm now, clapping his hands wholeheartedly.The image of the lady was blurred in his vision, and he only saw Naranja's lovely face.

The lady went down, and the applause in the church died down.The last piece...it's time for me to go on stage.There was not enough time, and Fugo only finished the first movement... But he believed that what he wanted to express was contained in it.

He reached out to the right, reached the piano belt, put the piano case behind his back, and walked up to the stage, never taking his eyes off Naranga from the beginning to the end.Naranja walked forward with the flowers in his arms, his eyes shining like stars, and he also kept looking at Fugo.

At the brief moment when they passed each other, Fugo rubbed Naranja's hair.Naranja shook his head like a puppy and shook off Fugo's hand, turned around and punched him on the shoulder with his arm.

"thanks……"

The voice of thanks was extremely soft, but the two were close at hand, so Fugo could hear it clearly.He turned around according to Nalanja's strength, and faced Nalanja. The two retreated towards each other. Fuge stepped back onto the stage in two or three steps, and Nalanka sat upside down on the first row of benches under the stage.

Fuguera pulled a chair from the previous trio.He sat down, spread out the non-slip mat, took out the piano... and soon the preparations were completed.

He raised his eyes to look down the stage, and his eyes met Naranja.Naranja bit her lips and smiled, her front teeth were white, and she silently made some gestures, with a purely innocent look, as if to encourage him.

How can you thank me?

I should be the one to tell you this.

Fuge opened his arms and put on the bow.

The bow bit the strings fiercely, and the heavy Adagio introduced the prelude to the solo.A series of desolate and powerful chords, like the lamentation of late swans, is poignant and moving, with thousands of repetitions.The tone motive is composed of a series of dotted notes, which continue to reflect downwards, laying out six degrees, sighing, spinning, spinning, sinking down, gradually slowing down and crescendoing, and the heart is also sinking into the deep pool of thousands of feet along with the tragic song .

Elgar's Cello Concerto in E minor is a requiem composed by the composer for his beloved dead wife after the end of the First World War and in his sick old age.The subtitle of the piece is "The Whole Alienated World", inspired by a line by the French poet Baudelaire.The flames of war are raging, Yi Ren is gone, and love has no place to rely on...

"All good, pure, and warm things are gone—never to return." The composer in his dying years lamented so.He has spent ten years weaving endless grief and love into the music, and he even wrote "May the soul rest in peace" on the last page of the score.

The left hand rubbed the strings nervously, bowing downwards, and the sound of the piano revealed a trembling breath.Fuge's bandage-wrapped left eye twitched and itched slightly.Maybe it's getting better soon.

The slight discomfort in his eyes reminded him of the night when the two fisted each other.What an ironic coincidence that they unknowingly touched each other's inverse scales on the same track.He said such exaggerated words to Naranja and hurt Naranja's hand.After learning everything from Bugarati, Fugo's intelligent brain imagined countless possibilities at that moment, the worst of which turned into a ferocious nightmare with teeth and claws, tormenting him every night. He cannot sleep well.

So he screwed all the anxiety and regret into the track.He practiced wholeheartedly, forgetting to sleep and eat, letting the music sweep his limbs and bones, leaving no time for him.In the dead of night, when he was exhausted and put down the bow, all kinds of fears came to his heart again.What if Naranja could never play again because of his fault...?Fuge didn't dare to think about it, but couldn't help but keep thinking about it.

Fortunately, it seems that Nalanga's hand is not serious.He can still play exquisite music, even better than before.Naranga's piano has left itself far behind.The breath, the raising of the wrist, the handling of the timbre, the proficient and changeable playing method, the imposing improvisation... Fuge was sure that he felt something in Nalanga's music.This indescribable emotion has never appeared in Nalanga's music before.

If you guessed correctly...

As the music enters the middle panel, the sub-part theme gradually becomes brighter, and the cello solo reaches its climax at this time.Fuge stroked the strings with his left thumb, and changed the handle many times to play in the extremely high-pitched range of the instrument.The melody becomes soft and sweet, and it blends with the elegant and fragrant scent of the church, blending into the taste of love, which becomes more and more enthusiastic.

The timbre of the cello is the closest to the human voice.The sound of the piano reveals whispers of love one after another. In the reverberation of the empty church, in the colorful sun softly sprinkled through the stained glass windows, there is even a hint of divinity... In the sorrow of the old, this music contains With forbearing and meaningful philosophical speculation, it appears restrained but not alienated, noble but not arrogant.At this time, Fugo's performance has reached a perfect balance between rationality and sensibility.The old composer's swan elegy, across a century of time and space, flows perfectly on the young piano sound.

Elgar's beloved Alice is dead, and he has gone with her long ago, but the tune he wrote for her will live on forever.All love and love are entrusted in music, and eternal life is obtained in music.How can we talk about going away?She is always there.

Like a white dove falling into the forest, pouring out the love like a song, circling, circling, lightly descending, a few soft but not empty plucking sounds, like feathers lightly tapping on the lake, aroused thousands of people. There were layers of ripples, and this murmur finally became inaudible.

Fu Ge stood up and bowed to the audience.He seemed to feel that people were standing up and cheering for him, but he didn't see them all.Everyone was blurred into a colorful fragment of light, the noisy and jubilant scene was silent in his mind, and the only thing that was clear was Naranja.

Nalanjan's grape-colored eyes were shining brightly, with water shining in them, his little nose was shrinking and shrinking, and the apple muscles were bulging gracefully.He threw the bouquet aside, clapped his hands desperately, reached out to wipe the corners of his eyes from time to time, and quickly continued to applaud...he kept shouting the weirdly pronounced "bravo", and the smile on his face was brighter than the sun.

Fuge put the violin and bow into the violin case, covered it halfway, and left it on the stage. He stepped off the stage as if there was no one else around, and walked towards Naranja.A flock of white pigeons flew up on his chest, but he ignored it.He looked into Naranja's eyes, covered the back of the other's hands with his hands, folded his palms lightly, put those hands together, and clasped them tightly against his chest.

"Thank you."

Fugo said softly.Naranja's red fingertips were hotter than usual, and there was a reassuring warmth from the folded hands.

Naranja lowered her head, lightly tapped the tip of her nose on the two hands that were tightly clenched, and arched her hairy head into Fugo's neck, humming something sullenly.Fuge laughed, his laughter was as gentle as jade.He rested his chin on the top of Naranga's head, loosened his hands and stroked the messy hair like the night, wrapped his arms around Naranga's shoulders, and hugged him tightly.

The white dove on his chest must have flown into Naranga's heart.The two hearts are close together, beating vigorously, as warm and sincere as Dvořák's favorite drumbeat.

Fugo passed Naranja's shoulder and waved to his companions who were preparing to withdraw from the field.They all showed clear smiles towards this side, turned and left in twos and threes.Soon, besides the priest and the nuns, there were only Fugo and Naranga in the church.

Fuge smelled the scent of shampoo in Nalanga's hair, the soft milk smell, which made his heartbeat gradually calm down.He still hugged Naranja without letting go, and asked in a volume that only the two of them could hear,

"Naranga, would you like to visit my house?"

"...the former home."

Naranja's head burrowed into the socket of Fuge's neck, and he probably nodded.His messy hair was tickling, and Fuge couldn't help laughing softly.

That French phrase is the title of Little Star Variations and the original name of Little Star's nursery rhyme

The music is really good;; he knows it even if he doesn't say it

Buccarati: oh my god prosciutto what the fuck did you teach him