BWV 1083 Stabat Mater 10

BWV 1083 Stabat mater 10 transcribed for guitar duo
Pergolesi died of tuberculosis, a fate he shared with the writer Franz Kafka. Both became famous after their deaths.
The year he contracted the deadly disease, Kafka rewrote a Homeric story, now known as The Silence of the Sirens. It is full of contradictions and paradoxes, the perspective is always in flux. Here it is:
“Proof that even inadequate, even childish means can serve to save:
To protect himself from the sirens, Odysseus stuffed wax into his ears and had himself chained to the mast. Of course, all travellers could have done something similar since time immemorial, except for those who were lured by the sirens from afar, but it was known throughout the world that this could not possibly help. The song of the sirens pervaded everything, and the passion of the seduced would have broken more than chains and mast. But Odysseus did not think of that, although he may have heard of it. He completely trusted the handful of wax and the bundle of chains, and in innocent delight at his remedies he drove towards the sirens.
But the sirens have an even more terrible weapon than song, namely their silence. It didn't happen, but it's possible that someone might have saved themselves from their singing, certainly not from their silence. Nothing earthly can resist the feeling of having conquered them with your own strength, and the consequent all-consuming arrogance.
And indeed, when Odysseus came, the mighty singers did not sing, either because they believed that only silence could overcome this opponent, or because the look of bliss in Odysseus' face, who thought of nothing but wax and chains thought they had forgotten all singing.
But Odysseus, to put it this way, did not hear their silence, he thought they were singing and only he was protected from hearing it. First he caught a glimpse of the twisting of their necks, the deep breathing, the tearful eyes, the half-open mouth, but he believed that this was one of the arias that were fading away unheard around him. But soon everything slipped away from his distant gaze, the sirens practically disappeared before his determination, and just when he was closest to them he knew nothing more about them.
But she, more beautiful than ever, stretched and twisted, her horrid hair blowing loose in the wind and her claws stretched free on the rock. They no longer wanted to seduce, they just wanted to catch the reflection of Odysseus' large pair of eyes for as long as possible. If the Sirens had been conscious, they would have been destroyed then. But they stayed that way, only Odysseus escaped them.
Incidentally, there is also an appendix to this. It is said that Odysseus was so cunning, such a fox that even the goddess of fate could not penetrate his innermost being. Perhaps he really noticed that the sirens were silent, although this can no longer be understood with common sense, and only held up the above apparent event as a kind of shield against them and the gods.”