悄无声息的暴力和绝望。
当我第一次在文学课上读拜伦的这首诗，脑子里充斥着令人惶然的景象。亚述人像猛兽一样汹涌而来，但抵挡不住死亡天使在耳边悄然的一口吐息。战场陷入宁静，战马和士兵像是形状各异的雕塑歪曲在地，只有妇人的哭声从远方传来。
但二读，三读，又会感到一种神圣而庄重的美丽。“他们尖茅的闪光像是大海上的星辰，当蓝色的海浪卷动在深夜的加利利。” 原来大军压境的紧张和压抑也可以有这样的意境。我想象我只是个游吟诗人，没有自己的立场，像是只在讲一个遥远的神话故事，像是只在描绘它的力量，信念和传奇。于是我写了这首曲子。
分享因又的单曲The Destruction of Sennacherib (@网易云音乐)
以下是原诗（中文版在下面，但推荐阅读原版），和一开始写的英文介绍。敬请配合欣赏。
The Destruction of Sennacherib
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord.
---—George (Noel) Gordon Byron
西拿基立的毁灭
亚述人像山凹上的狼冲下来，
他的步兵大队烁紫耀金；
枪矛的寒光如海上的星星，
当蓝的波浪夜夜席卷幽深的的加利利。
像夏日尚是绿色时森林的树叶，
那群人和他们的旗帜落日时被看见；
像秋日已吹拂时森林的树叶，
明日那群人躺着凋谢散落。
因为死亡的天使在怒流中展开双翅，
经过仇敌时往他的脸中呼气；
沉睡者的眼睛死寂般蜡封,
他们的心瞬间起伏，然后永远静止！
那儿躺着他的坐骑鼻孔大张，
可他骄傲的气息并不穿鼻涌动；
他喘息的泡沫白白落在草上，
冰冷的像拍击岩石之潮的浪花。
那儿躺着扭曲苍白的骑手，
露珠在眉上，锈在盔甲；
帐篷全都悄然，除了旗帜，
投枪不举，号无吹。
亚述的寡妇哀号震天，
巴利的神庙偶像尽毁；
异邦人之志，不被剑伏，
却在主的一瞥中雪般融化。
----乔治•戈登•拜伦
(来源：https://www.douban.com/note/237140837/）
Divinity and power---
in The Destruction of Sennacherib by Byron attracted me the moment I read it. Imagining troubadours singing the story in wilderness, I wrote the piece.
The piece starts with calm piano ostinatos, just like the troubadour strums his lute and says “once upon a time”. He tells the story of Sennacherib—the main melody presented by the violin. Led by the ethereal chanting, his audience become soldiers of Jerusalem, as the piano and violin restate the main motif in unison.
In the highlight of this story, the lead embodies the dangerous and overbearing Assyrians who come down like wolves. Thunder drums thump. The army as large as the Sea of Galilee approaches.
Suddenly, an angel of death spreads his wings in the lighting of a coming storm. Drum beats halt, as the heart of Assyrians stops. The rain falls relentlessly on the “sleepers waxed deadly and chill”. Only the crying of the widows of Ashur still echoes distantly, as the legendary story lingers in people’s mind.
