I waited but, it is true... He is dead... Pavarotti, I can't speak Italian but I can sing it because of him. Your voice called to me for so many years. And now my candle burns into this night. I remember...
When I buried my hero, I sang your words. When in my darkest nights on the beach alone, you were with me, in my heart and on my lips. One of my life's goals was to sing your song, 'Nessun Dorma. But... It sounds a small and frail piece of itself with my breath and voice.
My guess is that Bocelli will pay tribute to you with renditions... Or will he leave well enough alone? For though his voice is fresh with youth, and his sound is so very clear... It can never be yours... Yours that called so sweet. I will tell my children when they are born "Aaahhh, but if you had been privileged, you would have seen Him... Pavarotti, standing like a ship before the dawn."
Those that slumber now, they will not know. But we knew... We around the globe. We who felt the vastness of our world, sigh.... In your passing.
On to your next journey my friend. God Speed and, all my good will...
Monday, January 18, 2010
Journal Entry for Sep 05, 2007
Wednesday, September 05, 2007