Tilden High School - Classic Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Page 32 text:

THE CARNIVAL The place danced wi+h color And 'The splendor and gaie+y caughi' our eyes. We were enfangled in a maze of brilliance: Our eyes iumped resrlessly from place 'ro place. We gazed up al' l'he wondrous sighls, The carnival was a ceaseless world and we were 'rhe inhabifanls There was no lime +0 slop and marvel af each poin'l', We had +o move ahead: Our feel seemed +o fly +o fhe nexf aHrac'Hon. Our naive minds fried io grasp all Thar we saw, Searching-searching for somefhing new, we conlinued. The carnival was a game and we were 'The players. L4

Page 31 text:

MANS HDPE A sfruggling young Beefhoven or Bach creafes a masferpiece of fones and cadences. His music, a peaceful valley, suddenly climbs fo fhe fops of a mounfain, fhen erupfs from a hidden volcano, or rambles as a summer road, or dances as frippingly as Harlequin and Columbine, A sfrong and graceful parf of a world very much pleading for sfrengfh and grace. A iazz player, a smoky room, filled wifh giddy dancing couples is a parf of fhe sfrengfh and grace. So is a crooner: so is a colorafura, a forch singer, a Toscanini. An orchesfra reaches fhe heighfs of a symphony, An audience sfirs, as if some chord had suddenly reminded fhem of losf 'rhoughfs and dreams. The acfress fakes her curfain calls, repeafed again and again, in answer fo fhe fhunderous applause. She has creafed a new being, a slice of humanify, drawn from fhe molds of fheir own flesh and blood, and fhey respond fo fhis humanify wifh a fouching sorf of remembrance. Again fhe crowd sfirs, recalling, reliving a hope or dream, buf nof quife undersfanding why .... A painfing hangs in a museum, in a gallery, or in a sfudio. If brings forfh a mulfifude of new infensifies, new moods, and emofions of unexplored realms. A world of flowing line, amorphous shape and fanfasfic color. The awareness, fhe sfirring again, fhe slow awakening of sensafiong The people beginning fo see, fo feel again, Buf nof quife sure .... A book, a sfory, a poem somefimes bring fo Iigl-1++he secref sfirring. The fhoughfs broughf forfh by mere words, A love sfory, a sad sfory, a children's sfory, a funny sfory. Perhaps fhe words will unlock fhe secref, fhe sfirring of fhe crowds. A child, laughing, screaming, leaping, fhinking, hoping, creafing, And fhen fhey know fhe only key fo life's own secref, To happiness To fhe meaning of fhings, To knowledge. ln fheir one momenf of grafifying success, for fhe birfh of so-me wondrous work, lovingly creafed by fhe magnefic drive of creafivify. Their only hope, our only hope, fo build wifh our own hands fhe subsfance of our dreams: To look up af fhe sky, fo fomorrowg To have fhe courage fo hope, buf nof fo hope alone, To creafe fhe hopes unfil fhey are visions no longer, and are consummafed in music, painfings, books and people, over and over again. The dream of humanify. LYNNE SHARON

Page 33 text:

We siopped only long enough 'lo glance And fhen ahead, we were a++rac+ed 'lo some+hing original Somelhing more ornafe and flowery. We dwell al' each place buf a momenl, Taking liHle no+ice of +he care and conslrucfion of each wonder And fhen i'l' ended . . . Our palh lay dark and unceriain ahead. We fried fo find our way back buf all in vain. As we sfumbled along a virgin paih We could noi relrace our sleps and 'lhe road forged ahead. As lhe new day dawned we looked back 'For a momenl' Pondering over lhe pash Our youlh and mislakes were one and apparenf. We saw in fhe disfance +he ferris wheel-rusled by now, lf had slopped spinning. The ice cream we held was melied. As we l'urned 'lo leave we saw olhers walking 'ro lhe carnival. They could noi see 1'he larnish and +he flaws. To +hem if was as alive as il' had been 'lo us a shorl' while ago. We saw 'rheir smiling faces-ihe shine of innocence was upon ihem. l furned aboul' and l was alone. l began +0 pursue my course wilh more cerfainly. Wiih each s+ep 'rhe pafh which now loomed ahead became more clearly cu'r, Wifh each advance fhe ligh+ grew. My paces were more lively and sure. As I liffed my head and 'rhrew back my shoulders, l saw ahead all 'lhe ofhers before me . . . ANNE FLANZ