Sharawadgi (Gracious disorder) (Peter Bird): Difference between revisions
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==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== | ||
<br> | |||
<b>1. Daoist song</b> (Chi K’ang, 223-262 AD; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])<br> | |||
<br> | |||
I will cast out Wisdom and reject Learning.<br> | |||
<i>My thoughts shall wander in the Great Void.</i><br> | |||
Always repenting of wrongs done<br> | |||
will never bring my heart to rest.<br> | |||
I cast my hook into a single stream,<br> | |||
but joy as if I owned the land!<br> | |||
I will loose’ my hair and go singing;<br> | |||
to the four frontiers all join my song.<br> | |||
This is the message of my tune:<br> | |||
<i>“My thoughts shall wander in the Great Void.”</i><br> | |||
<br> | |||
<br> | |||
<b>2. Parting from Su Wu</b> (Li Ling, d. 74 AD; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])<br> | |||
<br> | |||
This special time will never come again.<br> | |||
In moments now—our parting will be over.<br> | |||
Anxiously—we halt at the road-side.<br> | |||
Hesitating—embrace where fields begin.<br> | |||
The clouds above are floating ‘cross the sky;<br> | |||
they swiftly, swiftly pass; or blend as one.<br> | |||
The waves of wind are drifting out of place;<br> | |||
they roll away, each to a different Heaven.<br> | |||
And so with us—so long to be apart!<br> | |||
So, let us stop again a little while.<br> | |||
If I could ride on wings of morning wind<br> | |||
I’d go with you, unto your journey’s end.<br> | |||
<br> | |||
<br> | |||
<b>3. Old poem</b> (anonymous, 1st c. BC?; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])<br> | |||
<br> | |||
At fifteen I went with the army.<br> | |||
At fourscore I came back.<br> | |||
On the way I met a man from the village;<br> | |||
I asked him who was left at home.<br> | |||
“That, over there, is your house,<br> | |||
all covered over with trees and brush.”<br> | |||
Rabbits ran in at the dog-hole;<br> | |||
Pheasants flew down from the roofbeams.<br> | |||
In the courtyard was wild grain,<br> | |||
and by the well, some wild mallows.<br> | |||
I’ll boil the grain to make a porridge.<br> | |||
I’ll pluck the mallows to make soup.<br> | |||
Soup and porridge are both cooked,<br> | |||
but no one’s here to eat them with.<br> | |||
I went out and looked to the east,<br> | |||
while tears fell and wet my clothes.<br> | |||
<br> | |||
<br> | |||
<b>4. Sailing homeward</b> (Chan Fang-sheng, 4th c. AD; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])<br> | |||
<br> | |||
<br> | |||
Cliffs that rise a thousand feet<br> | |||
without a break;<br> | |||
Lakes that stretch a hundred miles<br> | |||
without a wave;<br> | |||
Sands are white through all the year,<br> | |||
without a stain;<br> | |||
Pine woods, winter and summer<br> | |||
ever-green;<br> | |||
Streams that forever flow and flow<br> | |||
without a pause;<br> | |||
Trees that for twenty thousand years<br> | |||
your vows have kept:<br> | |||
You have healed the pain of a traveler’s heart,<br> | |||
and moved his brush to write a song.<br> | |||
<br> | |||
<br> | |||
<b>5. I built my hut</b> (T’ao Ch’ien, 365-427 AD; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])<br> | |||
<br> | |||
<br> | |||
I built my hut in town and by a road,<br> | |||
yet hear no noise of passing horse and coach.<br> | |||
Do you know how that came to be?<br> | |||
<i>A heart that’s free creates a wilderness.</i><br> | |||
I pluck chrysanthemums at the eastern hedge,<br> | |||
Then gaze long at the distant summer hills.<br> | |||
The mountain air is fresh at dusk of day;<br> | |||
The flying birds now two by two return.<br> | |||
These things enfold a meaning that is deep;<br> | |||
Yet when we speak of it, words fail.<br> | |||
<br> | |||
[[Category:Sheet music]] | [[Category:Sheet music]] | ||
[[Category:Modern music]] | [[Category:Modern music]] |
Revision as of 23:52, 25 March 2018
Music files
ICON | SOURCE |
---|---|
Midi | |
MusicXML | |
File details | |
Help |
- (Posted 2018-03-25) CPDL #49151: Sibelius
- Editor: Peter Bird (submitted 2018-03-25). Score information: Letter, 55 pages, 1.92 MB Copyright: CC BY SA
- Edition notes: Piano and flute parts follow the full score in the PDF file.
General Information
Title: Sharawadgi (Gracious disorder)
Composer: Peter Bird
Lyricist: Chi K’ang, Li Ling, anonymous, Chan Fang-sheng, T’ao Ch’ien; tr. Arthur Waleycreate page
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Cantata
Language: English
Instruments: Piano and flute
{{Published}} is obsolete (code commented out), replaced with {{Pub}} for works and {{PubDatePlace}} for publications.
Description: A cantata of 5 choral songs, accompanied by piano and flute. Total length about 18 minutes.
External websites: http://peterbird.name/choral/
Original text and translations
1. Daoist song (Chi K’ang, 223-262 AD; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])
I will cast out Wisdom and reject Learning.
My thoughts shall wander in the Great Void.
Always repenting of wrongs done
will never bring my heart to rest.
I cast my hook into a single stream,
but joy as if I owned the land!
I will loose’ my hair and go singing;
to the four frontiers all join my song.
This is the message of my tune:
“My thoughts shall wander in the Great Void.”
2. Parting from Su Wu (Li Ling, d. 74 AD; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])
This special time will never come again.
In moments now—our parting will be over.
Anxiously—we halt at the road-side.
Hesitating—embrace where fields begin.
The clouds above are floating ‘cross the sky;
they swiftly, swiftly pass; or blend as one.
The waves of wind are drifting out of place;
they roll away, each to a different Heaven.
And so with us—so long to be apart!
So, let us stop again a little while.
If I could ride on wings of morning wind
I’d go with you, unto your journey’s end.
3. Old poem (anonymous, 1st c. BC?; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])
At fifteen I went with the army.
At fourscore I came back.
On the way I met a man from the village;
I asked him who was left at home.
“That, over there, is your house,
all covered over with trees and brush.”
Rabbits ran in at the dog-hole;
Pheasants flew down from the roofbeams.
In the courtyard was wild grain,
and by the well, some wild mallows.
I’ll boil the grain to make a porridge.
I’ll pluck the mallows to make soup.
Soup and porridge are both cooked,
but no one’s here to eat them with.
I went out and looked to the east,
while tears fell and wet my clothes.
4. Sailing homeward (Chan Fang-sheng, 4th c. AD; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])
Cliffs that rise a thousand feet
without a break;
Lakes that stretch a hundred miles
without a wave;
Sands are white through all the year,
without a stain;
Pine woods, winter and summer
ever-green;
Streams that forever flow and flow
without a pause;
Trees that for twenty thousand years
your vows have kept:
You have healed the pain of a traveler’s heart,
and moved his brush to write a song.
5. I built my hut (T’ao Ch’ien, 365-427 AD; tr. Arthur Waley [1918])
I built my hut in town and by a road,
yet hear no noise of passing horse and coach.
Do you know how that came to be?
A heart that’s free creates a wilderness.
I pluck chrysanthemums at the eastern hedge,
Then gaze long at the distant summer hills.
The mountain air is fresh at dusk of day;
The flying birds now two by two return.
These things enfold a meaning that is deep;
Yet when we speak of it, words fail.