Ping snaps the string of the violins
Twang sounds the plucked guitar
Clatter sounds the lids of the refuse bins
Screech sounds the brakes of cars
Roars from the waterfall tumbling down
Plops from the dropping rain
Hums from the mills of the woollen town,
Hiss from the old steam train
Swish from the silk of evening skirt
and scythes as they slice the grass
Pop from the stud of a starched white shirt
Tinkle the sound of glass
Bath water gurgles, and babies too
Newspapers rustle like leaves
Staircases creak, and shoes and pews
Wind whistles through the eaves
No such sounds reach a deaf man's ears
Never a note or sigh
Never a chuckle, a yawn or cheer
Never a laugh or cry
