For Mr. John by Ilona Attard

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush.
Of the quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die. 
 
(Do not stand at my grave and weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye)



Ghaziz John by Jessica Farrugia

Il-Mulej sejjahlek u int hallejtna,
ghalkemm m’intiex presenti fostna.
Tahsiebx li int minsi!
Minn hemm fuq int titlob ghalina
fejn qsamna l-ferh u tbatija mieghek.    

Jien perswaza li l-Mulej Alla
minn hawn ser jisma talbi.
X’hin naqraw dawn l’erba versi
u nharsu lejn il-ritratt,
niftakru biss li int tinstab fina
Ghax l-imhabba taghna,
ghalik ma tintemm qatt!

Grazzi minn qalbna ta’ kollox.

In memory of John by Sarah Lanzon

John… an artist… a business man… a show man… but above all a gentle man…  It is him we owe our energy to.  His name is enough to stir our emotions… His smile, his correction, his scold… but we loved him, although we did not always show it when making last minute changes, after a long work day, when our blisters bled and muscles ached.  We loved his smile as he praised out struggled efforts to be the best, we loved his smile as he acknowledged our gratitude, and his cheer as the curtains close and the never ending hours at the studio come to an end.  We still do…

John, Mr. John… our thoughts flow… and enter into ocean deep stores of memories the word ‘rehearsals’ brings with it… hours upon hours at the studio… dancing… doing what we love… doing what John wanted us to do best… and as he tried to demonstrate to turn out and our epaulement, we laughed, we passed comments, but we were happy to be together.  Then, there were the other times… where tension seemed to grasp control of our thoughts and as time trickled by… smile, you fool!  We grudged, repeating the moves one more time!  “This is my last show’, he cried time and time again!  But, we smiled at ourselves knowing that he would never give up doing what he loved and did best!!

But, his last show has come!  And we do get the impression that it is the end!  But, this only Act 1!  So, as we close this chapter of our lives, I promise that there is more… more… much more… because every move we make, every plié, every stretch, every pointe, we will know that he is up there watching us, helping us finish the show.  And as we take off our shoes at the end, as we celebrate the end of suffering, while we pour our surgical spirit, we will know that he is there to remove our ribbons, the knots in life.

And let this moment not be a moment of sorrow.  And it is his lyrics, which unfold the words of truth: ‘our time on Earth is at an end.  Oh but hey please don’t cry there’s no pain, there’s no sorrow, hey please don’t cry there is still a big tomorrow, and what will happen is just a change.’ ‘Oh, for I will dance and sing for you as I know you love me too and thank you for the red rose too.’

Ma ninsew qatt by Anthea Zammit

Ma ninsew qatt l’energija
Li biha kont timxi maghna
Kemm kont thobbna u tieghu hsiebna                 
U bhal uliedek titrattana.  

Int hallejtna imma lhaqt tajtna
Imhabbtek, li ma tmut qatt
Il vojt li ha thalli f’qalbna
Zgur li mhux he jimlieh hadd.

Y...o...u. by Martina Zammit

I danced for you that night.
I hear the first notes of the music,
My heart starts pumping
And I take a deep breath to calm myself.

But that night…
I knew you were in the audience.
I saw that baseball cap and that check shirt
And as the light caught your glasses
I felt your presence.

And so that night
I felt peacefully serene,
At one with the music.
As I remembered you gently coaxing us to
“Feel the music, girls!”

As I feel each part of my body flowing to the music,
A smile creeps into my expression.
Yes, a smile John
That which you had always wanted us to do,
Whatever happens!

So the stage becomes my life
And so today I stand here
And bravely try to smile.
Though both you and I know it’s hard to,
Sometimes!

But the show must go on…
Mustn’t it!
We must get ourselves together
And push on,
Because that is what you always believed.

That night I said to myself that I’d dance for you and dance for you I did indeed, because I know you’re looking down at all your children proudly.  And I know that you always will be coaxing us out of our shells and pushing us forward like a whispering gentle breeze.

These words I dedicate to you.  Y…O…U… three simple letters that mean so much to all the people present in this church.  Keep it simple silly!!  I can imagine you telling me that right now but emotions are too complex to simplify.  So it is to you that I dedicate this prayer with all my heart!

Olivia Dow School of Russian Ballet
Leli Falzon Street, Naxxar, Malta.
Tel: 2158 3368, 2141 9725.
Fax: 2142 2592. Mobile: 9947 4127.
email: news@oliviadow.com

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