Europe shivered for centuries in the Little Ice Age.   
Rivers froze; crops failed;                                                 
people chewed on pine bark,              
implored the stubborn heavens:                                 
Lord, have mercy!         
                                    
That's why the Stradivarius cries so convincingly.                  
It's the wood remembering, 
the stunned wood shuddering,                                                  
too numb to grow,
the tree rings huddled close against the cold.