In this episode of Musical Poetry, Michael Appelt reflects on one of the most powerful travel experiences of his life: one unforgettable week in Egypt.

From the Pyramids of Giza and the newly opened Grand Egyptian Museum (GEM), to the monumental temples of Abu Simbel near Aswan, relocated in a remarkable UNESCO-led rescue between 1964 and 1968 to protect them from the rising waters of the Aswan High Dam, each day felt iconic.

But this musical poem is not about monuments.

It is about a moment.

Anchored before the lock of Esna during a Nile cruise, the ship waits its turn. Around it, life unfolds: the layered calls to prayer from nearby mosques, an episcopal church standing quietly apart, blue rowing boats circling the hull as traders throw tablecloths skyward, diesel smoke mixing with the scent of burning sugar cane.

Ancient faith, modern engineering, daily survival, all negotiating space along the timeless river.

The episode explores pause, movement, control, coexistence, and what it means to flow, even when redirected.

When power grows impatient with restraint, poetry remembers.

This episode of Musical Poetry brings together three voices from three centuries in a single musical conversation:

Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley — written in the shadow of Napoleon’s fall, reflecting on power after history has passed judgment.

The Second Coming by W. B. Yeats — written after the First World War, sensing a world where balance fails and something ancient begins to stir.

Coriolanus by William Shakespeare — offering the human voice of authority convinced that necessity excuses everything.

Rather than adapting or modernising these works, this episode lets them speak to one another — as prophecy, personality, and aftermath.

At the centre of the episode is an original musical piece built entirely from their words, arranged to reveal a pattern that repeats across history:

how power rises, how it justifies itself, and how time eventually responds.

This is not a political argument.

It is not a prediction.

It is a listening exercise, across centuries.

Stay with the episode to the end, where the three voices converge and the question they leave us with becomes unavoidable.

These are the days between Christmas and New Year, when celebration has faded, time slows, and the future has not yet begun.

In this episode of Musical Poetry, we present

“The Darkling Thrush” by Thomas Hardy.

Written at the very end of 1900 and first published in 1901, the poem stands at the threshold between centuries.

Hardy looks at a winter landscape that feels exhausted and silent, and then hears a small bird sing, without reason, without explanation.

This episode sets Hardy’s words against a melancholic, minimalist R&B soundscape, paired with a black-and-white animation that moves slowly, allowing silence and stillness to speak.