SAMUEL BARBER
Hermit Songs, Op. 29
At Saint Patrick’s Purgatory
[13th c.; trans. by Sean O’Faolain in The Silver Branch]
Pity me on my pilgrimage to Loch Derg!*
O King of the churches and the bells
bewailing your sores and your wounds,
but not a tear can I squeeze from my eyes!
Not moisten an eye after so much sin!
Pity me, O King!
What shall I do with a heart that seeks only its own ease?
O only begotten Son by whom all men were made,
who shunned not the death by three wounds,
pity me on my pilgrimage to Loch Derg
and I with a heart not softer than a stone!
*Loch Derg (Red Lake) in Country Donegal has been a place of pilgrimage from very early times.
Church Bell at Night
[12th c.; trans. by Howard Mumford Jones in Romanesque Lyric]
Sweet little bell, struck on a windy night,
I would liefer keep tryst with thee
than be
with a light and foolish woman.
Saint Ita’s Vision
[Attrib. to St. Ita, 8th c.; trans. by Chester Kallman]
“I will take nothing from my Lord,” said she,
“unless He gives me His Son from Heaven
in the form of a Baby that I may nurse Him.”
So that Christ came down to her
in the form of a Baby and then she said:
“Infant Jesus at my breast,
nothing in this world is true
save, O tiny nursling, You.
Infant Jesus, at my breast,
by my heart every night,
you I nurse are not
a churl out were begot
on Mary the Jewess by Heaven’s Light.
Infant Jesus, at my breast,
what King is there but You who could
give everlasting Good?
Wherefor I give my food.
Sing to Him, maidens, sing your best!
There is none that has such right
to your song as Heaven’s King
who every night
is Infant Jesus at my breast.”
The Heavenly Banquet
[Attrib. to St. Brigid, 10th c.; trans. by Sean O’Faolain in The Silver Branch]
I would like to have the men of Heaven in my own house;
with vats of good cheer laid out for them.
I would like to have the three Marys, their fame is so great.
I would like people from every corner of Heaven.
I would like them to be cheerful in their drinking.
I would like to have Jesus sitting here among them.
I would like a great lake of beer for the King of Kings.
I would like to be watching Heaven’s family
drinking it through all eternity.
The Crucifixion
[From The Speckled Book, 12th c.; trans. by Mumford Jones in Romanesque Lyric]
At the cry of the first bird
they began to crucify thee, O Swan!
Never shall lament cease because of that.
It was like the parting of day from night.
Ah, sore was the suffering borne
by the body of Mary’s Son,
but sorer still to Him was the grief
which for His sake
came upon his Mother.
Sea-Snatch
[8th–9th c.; anon. trans. in Kenneth Jackson’s A Celtic Miscellany]
It has broken us, it has crushed us, it has drowned us,
O King of the starbright Kingdom of Heaven;
the wind has consumed us, swallowed us,
as timber is devoured by crimson fire from Heaven.
It has broken us, it has crushed us, it has drowned us,
O King of the starbright Kingdom of Heaven!
Promiscuity
[9th c.; anon. trans. in Kenneth Jackson’s A Celtic Miscellany]
I do not know with whom Edan will sleep,
but I do know that fair Edan will not sleep alone.
The Monk and His Cat
[8th or 9th c.; trans. W. H. Auden]
Pangur, white Pangur,
How happy we are
Alone together,
Scholar and cat.
Each has his own work to do daily;
For you it is hunting, for me study.
Your shining eye watches the wall;
My feeble eye is fixed on a book.
You rejoice when your claws
Entrap a mouse;
I rejoice when my mind
Fathoms a problem.
Pleased with his own art,
Neither hinders the other;
Thus we live ever
Without tedium and envy.
Pangur, white Pangur,
How happy we are
Alone together,
Scholar and cat.
The Praises of God
[11th c.; trans. by W. H. Auden]
How foolish the man
Who does not raise
His voice and praise
With joyful words,
As he alone can,
Heaven’s High King
To Whom the light birds
With no soul but air,
All day, everywhere,
Laudation sing.
The Desire for Hermitage
[8th–9th c.; based on trans. by Sean O’Faolain in The Silver Branch]
Ah! to be all alone in a little cell
with nobody near me;
beloved that pilgrimage
before the last pilgrimage to Death.
Singing the passing hours to cloudy Heaven;
feeding upon dry bread
and water from the cold spring.
That will be an end to evil when I am alone
in a lovely little corner among tombs,
far from the houses of the great.
Ah! to be all alone in a little cell,
to be alone, all alone:
Alone I came into the world,
alone I shall go from it.
REYNALDO HAHN
À Chloris (To Chloris)
Text by Théophile de Viau
S’il est vrai, Chloris, que tu m’aimes,
If it be true, Chloris, that you do love me—
Mais j’entends, que tu m’aimes bien,
and I have heard, you love me well—
Je ne crois pas que les rois mêmes
then kings themselves I do believe
Aient un bonheur pareil au mien.
could hardly match my wealth.
Que la mort serait importune
Death would be most inopportune
De venir changer ma fortune
to come and alter my good fortune
Pour la félicité des cieux!
just to please the heavens!
Tout ce qu’on dit de l’ambroisie
Say what you will about ambrosia—
Ne touche point ma fantaisie
it can hardly compare to the magic
Au prix des grâces de tes yeux.
of your eyes bestowing their gaze on me.
REYNALDO HAHN
Quand je fus pris au pavillon (When I was lured to her love nest)
Text by Charles d’Orléans
Quand je fus pris au pavillon
When I was lured to her love nest
De ma dame très gente et belle,
by my lady so gentle and fair,
Je me brûlai à la chandelle
I was singed by a burning heat,
Ainsi que fait le papillon.
a butterfly caught in a flame.
Je rougis comme vermillon,
I glowed a fiery, crimson red
À la clarté d’une étincelle,
at the gleam of a single spark,
Quand je fus pris au pavillon
when I was lured to her love nest
De ma dame très gente et belle.
by my lady so gentle and fair.
Si j’eusse été émerillon
If I had only been a falcon
Ou que j’eusse eu aussi bonne aile,
or had the wings to fly away,
Je me fusse gardé de celle
I’d have saved myself from her,
Qui me bailla de l’aiguillon
who enticed me with her charms,
Quand je fus pris au pavillon.
when I was lured to her love nest.
REYNALDO HAHN
Si mes vers avaient des ailes (If my poems had wings)
Text by Victor Hugo
Mes vers fuiraient, doux et frêles,
My poems would flee, sweet and frail,
Vers votre jardin si beau,
to your beautiful garden,
Si mes vers avaient des ailes,
if only my poems had the wings
Comme l’oiseau.
of a bird.
Ils voleraient, étincelles,
They would fly, like sparks
Vers votre foyer qui rit,
to your smiling hearth,
Si mes vers avaient des ailes,
if only my poems had the wings
Comme l’esprit.
of the soul.
Près de vous, purs et fidèles,
To be close to you, pure and true,
Ils accouraient, nuit et jour,
they would hasten night and day,
Si mes vers avaient des ailes,
if only my poems had the wings
Comme l’amour!
of love.
GUSTAV MAHLER
Selections from Rückert-Lieder (Text by Friedrich Rückert)
Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft (I breathed a gentle fragrance)
Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft.
I breathed a gentle fragrance.
Im Zimmer stand
In the room stood
Ein Zweig der Linde,
a sprig of lime
Ein Angebinde
the gift
Von lieber Hand.
of a dear hand:
Wie lieblich war der Lindenduft!
how lovely the fragrance was!
Wie lieblich ist der Lindenduft!
how lovely the fragrance is!
Das Lindenreis
That sprig of lime,
Brachst du gelinde;
tenderly you broke
Ich atme leis
softly I breathe
Im Duft der Linde
in the fragrant lime
Der Liebe linden Duft.
love’s gentle fragrance.
Liebst du um Schönheit (If you love for beauty)
Liebst du um Schönheit, o nicht mich liebe!
If you love for beauty, O love not me!
Liebe die Sonne, sie trägt ein goldnes Haar!
Love the sun, she has golden hair!
Liebst du um Jugend, o nicht mich liebe!
If you love for youth, O love not me!
Liebe den Frühling, der jung ist jedes Jahr!
Love the spring, who is young each year!
Liebst du um Schätze, o nicht mich liebe!
If you love for riches, O love not me!
Liebe die Meerfrau, sie hat viel Perlen klar!
Love the mermaid, who has many shining pearls!
Liebst du um Liebe, o ja—mich liebe!
If you love for love, oh yes, love me!
Liebe mich immer, dich lieb ich immerdar!
Love me ever, I shall love you always!
Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder (Look not into my songs!)
Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder!
Look not into my songs!
Meine Augen schlag’ ich nieder,
My eyes I lower,
Wie ertappt auf böser Tat;
as if caught doing wrong;
Selber darf ich nicht getrauen,
I cannot trust myself
Ihrem Wachsen zuzuschauen:
to watch their growth:
Deine Neugier ist Verrat.
your curiosity is treachery.
Bienen, wenn sie Zellen bauen,
Bees, when they build their cells,
Lassen auch nicht zu sich schauen,
let no one watch, either,
Schauen selber auch nicht zu.
and do not themselves.
Wenn die reifen Honigwaben
When the full honey-combs
Sie zu Tag gefördert haben,
they bring to light of day,
Dann vor allem nasche du!
then you can nibble!
Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen (Lost am I to the world)
Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen,
Lost am I to the world
mit der ich sonst viele Zeit verdorben;
with which I used to waste much time;
sie hat so lange nichts von mir vernommen,
so long has it heard naught of me,
sie mag wohl glauben, ich sei gestorben!
well may it think me dead!
Es ist mir auch gar nichts daran gelegen,
Nor is it to me of consequence
ob sie mich für gestorben hält.
if it should so consider me.
Ich kann auch gar nichts sagen dagegen,
Nor can I say aught against it,
denn wirklich bin ich gestorben der Welt.
for truly I am dead to the world.
Ich bin gestorben dem Weltgetümmel
Dead am I to the world’s tumult
und ruh’ in einem stillen Gebiet!
and rest in a quiet realm!
Ich leb’ allein in meinem Himmel,
I live alone in my heaven,
in meinem Lieben, in meinem Lied.
in my love and in my song.
TRADITIONAL, ARR. JAMES MILLER
I Am Seeking For A City
I am seeking for a city, Hallelujah;
I am seeking for a city, Hallelujah;
For a city in that Kingdom, Hallelujah;
For a city in that Kingdom, Hallelujah;
Oh Lord I don’t feel no ways tired,
Oh glory, glory, hallelujah,
And I hope to shout “glory”,
When this world is on fire,
Chillun, oh glory hallelujah.
There’s a better day a-comin’, Hallelujah;
There’s a better day a-comin’, Hallelujah;
There will be no tears and sorrow, Hallelujah;
In that day of joy and freedom, Hallelujah;
Oh Lord I don’t feel no ways tired,
Oh glory, glory, hallelujah,
And I hope to shout “glory”,
When this world is on fire,
Chillun, oh glory hallelujah.
TRADITIONAL, ARR. MARGARET BONDS
He’s Got the Whole World in his Hand
He’s got the whole world in His hand.
He’s got the woods and the waters in His hand,
He’s got the sun and the moon right in His hand,
He’s got the whole world in His hand.
He’s got the birds and the bees right in His hand,
He’s got the beasts of the field right in His hand,
He’s got the whole world in His hand.
He’s got you and me right in His hand,
He’s got everybody in His hand,
He’s got the whole world in His hand.
