Last week I mentioned that Samuel Menashe had read me a poem over breakfast whose subject was the close resemblance between the sound of a plucked bass string and the croaking of a bullfrog. This poem, alas, turned out not to have been included in the collection of his verse published by the Library of America.
Imagine my surprise and delight, then, when I opened my mailbox on Friday and found a letter from Menashe containing a handwritten copy of the poem, which is called “Night Music (pizzicato).” I hope you like it as much as I do!
Why am I so fond
of the double bass
of bull frogs
(Or do I hear the prongs
Of a tuning fork,
Not a bull fiddle)
Responding
In perfect accord
To one another
Across the pond–
How does each frog know
He is not his brother
Which frog to follow
Who was his mother
(Or is it a jew’s harp
I hear in the dark?)
Speaking as a bass player who on more than one occasion has sat on a screened-in porch and listened to the sound of bullfrogs in chorus on a summer night, I can assure you that Menashe got it exactly right.