Written by Nurel Javissyarqi
Translated by Agus B. Harianto
Johannes Brahms (May 7, 1833 – April 3, 1897) is a German composer and pianist, one of the main musicians of Romantic period. He was born in Hamburg, German, but he has a lot of work and he died at Vienna, Austria. At his lifetime he was very popular also influential in the music world. Brahms composed piano music, ensembles chamber music, for symphony orchestra and also for the singers and the choir as well. As an expert pianist, he often showed by himself in the prime of his works. He was working together with the main performers of his era, including the pianist Clara Schumann (wife of the composer Robert Schumann). Many of his works are part of the standard repertoire of classical concerts untill today. The most famous of his is “Wiegenlied, Op. No. 49. 4” (“The Song of Nina Bobo” in English it is known as “Brahms’ Lullaby”) (from http://id.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johannes_Brahms)
Brahms much longer becomes well reputed. The Germany equates him with Bach and Beethoven, they proudly define their three B. Such as Bach and also Beethoven, Brahms remaining towered as the cliffs above the tide, and the ebb of water in shallow idol. Brahms suffered the different tragedy than Beethoven, Goethe, Schumann. If all those three artists took the substances of their art from the perfect life. But Brahms, the music get its sadly resonances which sometimes become mild by emptiness of the heart. Dante has Beatrice, beethoven has Unsterblich Geliebte, Rubens Helene Fourment. And Brahms? No, he doesnt dedicate for a lover. People do not like to talk about what covering up their life. A great mystery about sentimentality. In his whole live, Brahms loves his wife as most intimate friend, tragic love and futile. (Summary of opinion of J. Van Ackere, in the book of “Musik Abadi” (Eternal Music), translated by J. A. Dungga, Gunung Agung Djakarta, n.d (no date), the original book entitles “Eeuwige Muziek”, published by NV Standaard-Boekhandel, Antwerpen, Belgie, which is retranslated into English would be more or less like above).
Brahms’s Music always touches the body of inner and soul of listeners. There were far shrieks reverberate endlessly on the slopes of the valley to the meadow of pain.
The deepest cries sliced flesh of soul, followed the time and stopped in the billowing of emotions which was unchecked and elusively.
If a flower is blooming, not with the purity of certitude, there are detained from the shining of peace.
Blowing of sadness gripped the heart; the feeling was floundering in a raging storm of anxiety.
Jeremiad was holding on wooden doors, and sometimes hanging lazily in the window of time.
As if it was pulling on bamboo central pillar. Knelt on the marble floor which kept jasmine fragrant, surpassed scented spaces of the homeland.
In cavities of breaths of the memory was of snapped off, the memories choked to the sjadow of old lover.
I remembered to a movie entitles “Before Sunrise,” to imagine Brahms walked around to the corners of the city of Vienna in his creative processing.
While he was noting something in the obsolete sheets of paper, similar the picture of Beethoven was often shown.
Or he was sitting on the stone at edge of the river, enjoying the lamps of poetic evening, as melancholy as chanting the music of solitariness.
Its rhythm was slowly as much as a pulling of the dying of love, abandoned by the beloved.
Blown by thousands of pain, the earliest assaulted longing, passionate and difficult to stop. But there was no help for it; the reality is not the same effect.
He kept run holding the pains in the chest and wiped away the tears, submitted his fate to the old silence.
Only the inner screams accompanied mysterious sang of the entertainers of heart. The touch is everlasting, from fragments of period beaten by the eyes of the most vicious times.
On the budding girl, Brahms performs the rhythm of music fully aura.
The sacredness of fragrant flowers was covered by the spirit of the worship of destiny’s purity. So was the colors reflected by the holiness of its beauty.
There are torn from all spiritual of love, sliced by the ancient memories.
The combination of tones uprooted the heart, presented in the bowls of tragedy.
Incarnates a drama, the story touches the eyes and squeezes the whole soul, for the sake expresses it to various charms.
Far and gentle sounds broke the silence, to the ends of the maturity since the power of regrets.
The shrill of tones impaled the sphere of longing, minced the loneliness incarnates the incision of heartbeat.
The story of love in vain to meet mouth, felt bitter, anxious and sadness haunt the human soul.
Brahms buried his crazy longing more painful, as much as the gods crying because of angered by the Almighty.
Sail the tears as far as the river in the city of Vienna, softly swept by the wind and delivered by the leaves fell off avalanches of the season.
His music depicts all fully comfort; the soul is eternal on the endlessly bitterness.
His symphony soared since the height of the most precipitous cliffs, by the pounding of spiritual waves crashed bravely.
The fractional of the grains of sand’s light, billowing steam, the incense’s smoke of despair, sent the news into the country of the clouds.
Nudged the heart that was both flown by bitterness. Or the crying of angel, her tears granules were delivered by the swaying of subtle flirtation.
Earth-sky is no different. Brahms did not want to hope, it was true that his soul passed beyond the disappointed left behind.
Fairy caresses by itself made worse feelings. Obviously human beings love each other, because the existence of forlorn souls of creatures before the Creator.