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Carillon The Silent ...

Slowly the muscles of the fingers meant that the handle revolved and revolved ... When he finally stopped after a few fractions of a second, the carillon began its slow and gentle sounds of the storm: One after another the notes flowed MISC in almost faint stream of music ...
And the more the music progressed more increased in intensity and the harmonic structure is more complicated.
It was not like others to chime, melody no end, no loop. She was born and went on and on as an individual is born and lives ... Suddenly the notes became strange, no more harmonious and happy, tapering back, lowered in intensity and turned into one great harmony, sad melody ... More and more feeble, more and more similar to the silence. Till those who had known only the beginning could still sense the trend. The new listener would not hear anything. Only a beautiful decorated box looked at carefully and that gave a vague sense of unease, she continued to play in silence as the notes had become too sad to be heard by those oncoming and too painful (and mind you that pain is quite another thing that sadness) for those who now could only guess ... The sad melody now belonged only to the chime and no one else. The newcomers saw only the happy image. Those who heard the start of play preferred to ignore, now, the painful musical intuition and how the new listeners who were not more than viewers, marveled at the joy of colors and shapes so you can listen to it again devote much more cheerful harmonies and abandoning that single, dark melody.
A colorful, cheerful beautiful Carillon infinitely sad in its loneliness ...