Like breath, natural and free,
Plagal stops chart the ebb and flow of contrapuntal waves.
The song sends fond thoughts
Flowing through warming blood.
It stirs clear images of Dufay’s day.
The time of struggle.
The deadly labour of all but the rich and powerful.
But also a world of immovable, inscrutable beauty.
Dufay lived when the Renaissance was older;
Though still with the issue of its new birth.
He kept on moving on that still-flowering world.
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