One of the next starlit summer nights, a decent Landwehr chap came up suddenly and said to 2/Lt Reinhardt, ‘Sir, it’s that Frenchie over there singing again so wonderful.’ We stepped out of the dug-out into the trench, and quite incredibly, there was a marvellous tenor voice ringing out through the night with an aria from Rigoletto. The whole company were standing in the trench listening to the ‘enemy,’ and when he had finished, applauding so loud that the good Frenchman must certainly have heard it and is sure to have been moved by it in some way or other as much as we were by his wonderful singing.
Musiek as kunsvorm is uniek.
Dit hang nie soos skilderye in museums of kastele nie, of staan nie soos beeldhouwerke vasgemessel op plazas en dorpspleine nie .
Musiek is in my sak, in my kop en deel van my siel.
Musiek kan nie toegesluit word nie!
