This composition by Frederic Chopin is my favorite piece of music–to play and to listen to. The song and alleged story behind it inspired me to write this poem:
Dripping, dripping, dropping, Constant, never stopping. My health is in despair, And so I must repair; Banished to this cloister, Full of cold and moisture. Clouds beginning to form, A prelude to a storm. I’m sure my lady’s dead; It is not in my head! Run out into the rain, Before I go insane! Water will kill or save; This lake shall be my grave. Drip, dripping on my head, Telling me I’m not dead. She then returned from town, And so we had a row. She said ‘twas in my dream; Aha! So it would seem. If not for this torment, I would but give consent. The rain is dripping still, Into my soul it drills. Dripping, dripping, dropping, Constant, never stopping. Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich
Frederic Chopin was in poor health and traveled to Mallorca; unfortunately, the weather was terrible, causing his lung disease to worsen. He was then banished to a cold monastery. It is said that he had a dream of drowning in a lake (which might have been prompted by the storm). It is during this period of time that he composed Prelude in D-Flat Major, Op. 28 no. 15, nicknamed “Raindrop” Prelude. There is a repeating A♭ throughout the piece, mimicking the constant dripping of rain.
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this poem, please click the like button and leave a comment. Follow me if you would like to receive updates on new posts whenever they are published.