When I hold you in my hands and I tighten your pegs ... everything becomes tense, only to give the most refined notes, the most perfect ones. Headstock... how much I love you!. I could think that you suffer, when wood creaks, when strings are tightened, but -"instead of breaking you, you always give me the best of yourself"-.
Your best intonation and I adjust you, squeeze you, spin you and you continue by my side, with that so capricious and beautiful form. Your mission is worthy and even if you made strange, suffering noises ... You never complain. How I love you, Clavijero!.