In December 1878, Tchaikovsky took a break from composing and wrote a poem called Lilies of the Valley. He sent it to his brother, saying how proud he was of it.
Remembering the flowers' heady scent, warm and intoxicating 'like music', he wrote breathlessly of their 'mysterious fascination' and their evocation of summer.
This exquisite snail’s-eye view touches me to the core. I am enchanted by its magical
combination of sublime delicacy and fragility, with toughness and tenacity...
combination of sublime delicacy and fragility, with toughness and tenacity...
