Song for Corona – Spoken Word – Piano

Music composed and played by Ashot Danielyan. Words written and spoken by Mario Savioni:

Song for Corona 

(Lyrics inspired by Ashot Danielyan’s darker pictured “Tears” cut on SoundCloud.)

I wake to you on the dance floor. 

The shifting moods of time. 

In this limelight, the amber horns of honesty permeate the room.

Nevermore, shall I encase these dreams. 

On top of this is sorrow. 

Everyone I loved is gone. 

All the memories have failed. 

Even in song, the sorrows blossom. 

The mixture of my anguish and sweetness charms the silence too. 

The squirrels tumble. 

The sun is humbled. 

Bushes in the garden have their thorns. 

A crown has been placed on your head. 

You don’t wear it well. 

By nightfall, I fall asleep again. 

I don’t like grief or pain; 

I know they are the same. 

I just need more words for life. 

I seem to hover on just a few. 

The sorrows that spell my life are hand-me-downs. 

Trouble is a friend,

And so is silence. 

Never doubt the truth that comes to you. 

Nothing makes sense, but it will. 

This time is full of ghosts, who were surprised. 

We were naked at the outset, told to say our goodbyes: 

“Once I intubate you, you may not wake.” 

So much of this is science fiction. 

So much of this is fate. 

I stumble forward, 

Stumble out of bed. 

They laid me on my stomach and paralyzed my legs. 

You have my mind in swirling overtures. 

The ground work you must do. 

From dust to dust, we swing.

Two partners in a marathon. 

Two friends in different countries playing different songs. 

Grouped together by our wrecks. 

The tumbling notes compartmentalize our eyes. 

I see by not questioning the gait. 

The fake bunny runs ahead.

This is like a funeral march, that repeats.

Or a school song that is played to the parents whose children are dead.

I take my gun to the closet. 

It’s a scam. 

They knock on the door or call me.

They want my information. 

Our numbers are up.

No, take a number. 

You will be called. 

Take a number, and she’ll never call you. 

She’s too upset. 

I always went for girls, whose boyfriends wept. 

I am in the market 

With falling stock. 

The bellicose troubadours are on the sidewalk. 

Hair comes out of windows. 

As do lots of flies.

There is a marcher.

He is the black shape of today.

Mario Savioni (c) April 23, 2020. (smcl)


  1. Well done, I adored the music and your poem is superb…. and these lines lines touched me deeply…..
    “Everyone I loved is gone.
    All the memories have failed.
    Even in song, the sorrows blossom. “

  2. I am so glad it works. I really loved how these words poured out of me and I didn’t question them, some advice to myself: A poem is emotional, not necessarily logical coupled with the rhythmic parameters, a kind of meter is demanded. There are some couplings that really impressed me, as they referenced things I had read, and there they were consolidated into a piece that made me thrilled. I was struggling with it as a song, but there were just too many words.

  3. I love the entire project and, like Ivor, it touches me deeply. The visual design of the virus reminds me of Antoni Gaudí’s art. Ashot’s music and your spoken words are perfectly synchronised, melodious, eloquent and emotionally vibrant. I am glad you have included the written form as it allows me to go over your poem as many times as I want. I confess I was missing this lovely poetry of yours. The metaphors are beautifully powerful like “the amber horns of honesty permeate the room” and the three verses Ivor mentioned. The words ” the sorrows blossom” combined with the two previous lines have great strength, a cathartic effect.

    I love the rhyming here. It gives your poem a lovely flow:

    “The squirrels tumble.

    The sun is humbled.”

    I hope some listeners/readers will associate the word “crown” with Latin “corona” and, therefore, with the coronavirus in this verse:

    “A crown has been placed on your head.”

    And yet: “You don’t wear it well”.

    This combination comes like a… bam!

    Oh, my, this touches me deeply. And the use of “your” and “you” is perfect because the listener/reader feels spoken to. This is wonderful literary device.

    The next verses have key words like “grief”, “pain”, “trouble”, “silence” (can be positive or negative but in here it connects with the previous ones), “ghosts”, etc. You achieve an increasing tension that reaches its climax with this verse:

    ““Once I intubate you, you may not wake.” Another bam!

    Then it decreases a bit though still keeping the emotional tension where I sense all the colateral damages of our “corona” new world order, Orwellian, depriving us of liberties. I love how you play with the word “number” here making a perfect transition:

    “Our numbers are up.

    No, take a number.

    You will be called.

    Take a number, and she’ll never call you.”

    This is another line I like very much because of its literary contraposition:

    “The bellicose troubadours are on the sidewalk.”

    Mario, I could talk about this for hours. I believe this creation is one of the best you have done lately. I hope you are well. Virtual hugs (haha, there is no other way), Marta.

    • I am so flattered too about this. As you know, I just read a lot and the words eventually come. I wished I could have put this to song, but there were too many words, besides, I am getting too familiar with my voice and style of singing. I am trying figure out how to change it up. I think I am going to get a lot more expressive, almost Broadway performance in nature with the next projects. I have written two more songs. Need permission and more takes to perfect, but we will see.

      I feel like I already responded to this.

      As you know, I love Gaudi! I think he is the greatest architect. He understood what I feel is how architecture should be — organically based. Gesthalt psychology talks about warm fuzzies and cold pricklies. Angular, or sharp edges are cold and rounded forms are welcoming and nurturing.

      It is exciting that you think the words and music are synchronized, and that they are melodious, eloquent, and emotionally vibrant.

      I am glad this piece succeeds because of my poetry. I felt I had to leave poetry (generally) in the hope that I might broaden my appeal. Poetry is such a dead art. It thrills me, but it’s also like a medium, akin to photography that because it’s seemingly so easy to do, everyone’s got their notebooks out and there are as many poems as there are photos of the setting sun.

      You know, I was worried about the “Amber horns of honesty…” I really do get these words like water coming out of a hose, and I have no idea if they will water the plants or kill them. But, by your focus on them, I can see their sensibility. It’s like an outpouring from a spirit that moves through me. I did love “Sorrows blossom,” because of the contrast. Life is often most beautiful after something horrible has happened. It is all so delicious having been a party to such word-making. Ashot’s music often inspires me. He puts me in the mood that aligns with my creativity.

      Yes, lovely easy flow with “tumble” and “humbled.”

      I too hope people get the “crown” reference. And I hope they get the reference before the virus is no longer of interest to them. Sometimes when you establish a historical mark, artwork is forever associated with that time, and unless that person is interested in the Coronavirus, then my poetry, this work, may forever reside in the memory of this time.

      I like that you notice these literary devices. You seem to get my works well.

      Yes, that line about intubation stunned me when an article mentioned it. The doctors were giving the patients warnings: “Get your house in order, because once we do this, you may never come back to life.”

      Yes, death, waiting to be served as a patient, too many patients, the rush, the calamity, dying alone. And even a reference to people, who have never found love but will die. It is the ultimate meaninglessness.

      This line about combative poets or musicians, referencing the earlier plagues and current lock-down protestors, people singing on their balconies, yes it is all dreamy.

      Thank you again for getting the work. It means a lot. To know that someone gets what I can see, validates me as a person. It’s hard just writing to the wind. Back at you with the hugs. – Mario

    • I wanted to add that the general sense of the design harkened back to Vesuvius. Roman tile, an engulfing consummation of innocence or decadence, man-made beauty gone in an instant unexpectedly. Mother Nature is a bitch, who is long-suffering like most women, who are inherently loving and Godly. We all see that our world cannot go on as it has. We have to care for every life-form or we are all dead as one. Corruption will not be tolerated. Every empire crumbles to dust.

    • That is so flattering! I hate to say it but I have listened to it over and over again. My narcissism has your appreciation beat by a mile. ;)’ In all honesty, the words just come to me. It’s like Meals-On-Wheels. Thank you so much! I am really very flattered.

    • I am flattered that you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed receiving and producing it with Ashot’s underlying music, which inspired the words. To me, it was a gift of absolute beauty from the muse.

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