La Marimba

Pablo Leon De Paz                                                                                  09/27/01 English OAC La xylophone         In the oculus of the village, where the volcanos eyes look straight down to find the originative fluid of a melody, stood a wooden factor that equal home, family and culture. La Marimba was playing a soft undecomposed of joy, brass touching to the spirit. Its music and sound were so intemperate that they gave independence to my soul and emancipation to my mind.         It was been played by the natives of the basis, indians with no-count total m on the wholeets. La Marimbas sound was so beautiful that birds in the trees started to burble and dance to the music. The green cheat danced with the wind and the flowers unresolved their ears to visualize the music. The blue sky was se parate and the sun was shinning on the Marimba and the indians playing it. It was a sketch of home in a frame of culture, it represented the land and the people. I was in a journey of magic that opened my heart to the rhythm of life, it was a moment of peace. The lands nature was telling to me, it seemed like if the music wasnt barely coming from the tuned percussion instrument but from the homeland and its unspeakable soil.

As the Indians started to rush the tone, a last mallet extend to the forbid and silence began. Trees renounce moving, the grass stop dancing, birds stopped singing and myself, I stopped bre athing. But after a short second that near ! ended my peaceful journey, all mallets hit the wooden bars and the tube resonators brought out a sound that was even greater than befores. The indians hands were doing something unique, they were building unity end-to-end the land and throughout every persons spirit that... If you emergency to get a dear essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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