Farewell. Farewell my hands

"Farewell. Farewell my hands"

"My symphonic dances which I wrote in america were a memory of what was and what might have been. Afterall composing is as essential a part of my being as breathing or eating. It is the expression of my deepest thoughts; and my constant need to compose is actually the urge within me to give sound to those thoughts. I write down only what I hear within me. I wish to say simply and directly what I feel, and if that be love, or sadness, or bitterness, well so be it. My music is perhaps a long dark coda into the night.

Ah this endless concertizing just to earn enough to survive! In New Orleans I definitely noticed my coughing was getting worse. Soon I will not be able to get up, sit, or lie down. I keep spitting phlegm into a paper bag, phlegm covered with blood. Too many cigarettes! I am frightened, embarassed, and guilty. And so finally as I end, I feel that my mournful features are clearing. I have signed myself up for a course of healing by music. What other function can music have but to make us whole again?

Farewell. Farewell my hands".

... Sergei Rachmaninoff  (1873-1943) Russian composer, pianist, and conductor.

           - excerpt from diary notes written shortly before he died.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cuUjsXf4_PE&feature=g-all-u

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbZYzoidkYU