Copyright © Gerard Smyth; All rights reserved.
At the end of his life he called for
a cup of Pyrenees water
to cleanse his heart, prepare it for
its final prelude: the homecoming to Warsaw,
A city built from ruins
and in the middle of it Chopin’s heart.
The rest of Chopin lies in Pere Lachaise,
beside Michel Petrucciani,
another pianist, whose night-prayer was jazz:
the dusky ballads.
Chopin the émigré never forgot
the grandfather clock that let time pass
more slowly; or the spring thaw
in the woodland his father bought
– ice snapping in a short recital
of nocturne and sonata
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