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When I play the viola
I’m an “Esperado”
Like a robust toreador
Winner of a big beautiful bull.

The instrument is not easy
But always obedient
And the hand has to be agile
For the fingers to be exact
Fairness is on the edge
On the verge of danger
This work is hard.

When I was four, friend
I’d already chosen you
My father told me
You were so pretty.

I’ve never regretted
The good choice I’d made
And thanks to my will
Despite your malice,
I’ll do this great job!

Poem written by Michel Hilger
Opus 107