A man hears a woman singing softly in the evening, and the sound pulls him back through the years to a vivid childhood scene: he is small, sitting beneath a piano while his mother plays and sings, her feet pressing the pedals. The memory is so strong that he feels betrayed by the song’s power—he longs to return to those cosy Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside and hymns around the parlour piano. When the present singer shifts to loud, passionate playing, it makes no difference. The past has already overwhelmed him. His adult self collapses into grief, and he weeps like a child for what is gone. The mood is tender, sorrowful, and deeply nostalgic.
Piano — Summary
Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me; Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.
In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.
So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.