Poetry and music

Script for "Verses in Candle"
[Stage: A small platform. The evening light is slowly fading. The soft sound of a warm wind brushes the space. All around, electric candles begin to illuminate the room, creating a soft, contemplative aura. The music in the air mixes with the shadows as night falls. There are two microphones in the center and a pedestal with a lectern with the poems. To the right, a guitar is ready to be played, and next to it, a cajon is prepared.]
[The poets, Cajanuma and Pedro Siniglesia, enter the stage slowly, with a serene presence. Cajanuma carries a guitar. Both approach the microphones.]
Pedro Siniglesia: (with a soft and deep voice, looking at the audience)
The candles we light today... are not just lights.
These are verses that do not need to be read on paper,
but felt in the soul.
Today, between shadows and music, the word becomes vibration.
Cajanuma: (nodding as he picks up his guitar)
Today the verses flow like the evening wind,
And like the setting sun, the melodies envelop us.
Let's open a space where every word becomes music,
and each chord weaves an emotion.
[Cajanuma picks up the guitar and begins to play softly, marking the rhythm with the cajon. The sound fills the space.]
We played Verses in Candlelight as a start
Pedro Siniglesia: (with modulated voice, accompanying the guitar)
Poem 1: "The light that inhabits us"
The light that inhabits us,
It is a flame that does not go out.
Each verse a spark,
every silence a distant echo.
The sun sets, but its trail remains,
in the glow of what is still felt.
The candles lit,
They tell us the story of the night.
[The guitar takes on a melancholic air as the poem draws to a close. Cajanuma continues playing, the notes softening.]
Cajanuma: (in a lower voice, creating an intimate atmosphere)
Poem 2: "The sigh of the wind"
In the wind,
A sigh is hidden,
a song of forgotten secrets,
that the sun does not dare to keep.
Listen, brother,
the air that touches us is memory,
It is the voice of those who left,
and they return with every breeze.
[The guitar rhythm increases slightly, marking the transition between poems.]
Pedro Siniglesia: (in a more lively tone, soaked with energy)
Poem 3: "Moon body"
We are moon,
body of shadow and fire.
Our skin shines in the distance,
our song is the moon that never sets.
Under the sky, we dance,
like stars that are not afraid to fall.
We rise to the rhythm of the soul,
flowing like illuminated seas.
[The rhythm of the cajon comes in stronger, increasing the intensity while the guitar accompanies with a short solo. The audience feels part of this musical journey.]
Cajanuma: (with evocative voice)
Poem 4: "Clock without hours"
The afternoon fades away on the skin,
and the clock no longer marks time,
because time is us,
bodies made of moments.
At every step, the rush fades away,
and the eternal becomes a sigh.
Every second,
It is a verse waiting to be recited.
[The two poets look at each other for a moment, while the candlelights flicker softly.]
Pedro Siniglesia: (in a reflective voice, taking a breath before continuing)
Poem 5: "Paths between shadows"
The paths cross between shadows,
and every footprint leaves a trace,
but it is not the end that we seek,
but the beauty of walking without knowing.
The stars are already awake,
and we, among them,
we find ourselves in the reflection of its light,
walkers of the uncertain,
night explorers.
[The guitar and cajon gradually fade away, until only a whisper of notes remains. The poets fall silent, looking at the candles around them.]
Cajanuma: (in a soft voice)
And so, in every word,
in every verse we have shared,
a little bit of us remains.
The light of these candles,
It will be the echo of what is not forgotten.
Pedro Siniglesia: (looking at the audience)
Thank you for being part of this light.
Thank you for being here,
in the voice of poetry that becomes music.

We play Ruta Vilcabamba as a farewell
[Both poets slowly leave the stage, the guitar still emitting a last soft note. The candlelight continues to shine in the room.]
END.

Ecuador, Loja