1. |
Dawn in the Room
05:03
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The pale gold light
creeps into my silent room
touching my face
I know that you are here.
Softly contours form
as the colours
take the place of grey
Translucent gold hits the mirror
and reaches my lonely bed.
Dispels the grey mist which lingers
on the window pane
Deepens the image and I see you.
Pale blond light
where your hair once shone.
Lonely shadow of my
former self
I languish here.
But then your dear voice calls
with comfort, love
and says
"I have not left,
while your fond memories remain."
I think of you and
you are here
beside and within
Your image fades
but you are still here in me.
You must
you must come back
if only at dawn.
See through the tears of gold,
you are here once more
Your ghostly presence
fills my poor heart,
searching my mind
once more to be as one,
here is your body
so close to my own
in this spectral world
we share our thoughts.
My soul now quiet at last
my yearnings on hold.
The golden glow brings me peace
and I might face another day
E M Solomons
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2. |
Haviranosan no Haiku
02:56
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Sunset ragged weeping
down dark wooded hills
fallen leaves choke our path
On lonely country roads
traveller leaves footprints
in thin nightfall snow
Green amid the haze and dust
a lizard darting
shelters from the sun
Forgotten badger-country
secretly whispers
to a shy young flower.
(Haikus by Mark Haviland)
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3. |
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Summer is i-cumen in
ludhè sing tishoo.
Flower bloweth
hooter gloweth
all the summer noo!
Summer is i-cumen in
ludhè sing.
Ludhè sing.
Summer is i-cumen in
ludhè sing tishoo
Pollen clingeth
in the nasal
passages anew.
Sing tishoo.
Sing tishoo.
Sing tishoooooo!
Summer is i-cumen in
ludhè sing tishoo
Breathing wheezeth
hooter sneezeth
misery for you
Sing tishoo!
Sing tishoo,
noo:
pocket floweth over with
the hankies soaked through!
Sing tish.
Sing tish ...
tchoo!
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4. |
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Sometimes when you fall asleep,
it seems you take me with you
deep into a peaceful land
far from all the heartache;
that you'll understand one day,
you will understand one day
the quiet way
quiet way you move me
quiet way
quiet way you move me.
Sometimes when you fall asleep
it seems you take me with you,
deep into a peaceful land
far from all the heart ache.
I find myself complete;
I find myself repeating a prayer
and smiling at the sky:
the quiet way you move me
even when you cry.
Now within your drowsy eyes
I can see why the world has lost
all its wonders.
A new dream is rising,
impatient to begin.
A new dream is rising
impatient to begin.
And when the dream is through,
your hungry feelings will find me.
My comfort is you.
My comfort is you.
The quiet way
quiet way you move me
quiet way
quiet way you move me
(Poem by Nevil Frenkiel)
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5. |
Greek Wassail
01:28
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Here we come a-wassailing among the olive trees.
Here we come a-sailing from the fair Dodecanese.
Leave your empty duty-free retsina on the shore
and come with us a-wassailing, and we'll drink plenty more!
Here they come a-wassailing among the olive trees.
Here they come the tourists to the fair Dodecanese.
Leaving empty duty-free retsina on the shore
and coming here a-wassailing,
and they'll drink plenty more!
(words by David W Solomons)
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6. |
The Swallows
06:03
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Far in the distant Nile Valley down nameless highways unknown,
where the Dead Sea's gloomy ripples break,
straining on their way unfinished home,
with a song in their hearts,
the swallows died,
unable to return.
Far in the distant Nile Valley down down nameless highways unknown.
They never came back to adorn the Spring with heady song,
to chant with the winds the green meadow,
rebuild abandoned nests.
They died on distant mountains, plains afar,
unable to return. Far away.
Can they subsist with the love of our hearts
or our gardens' blossoms gay
or our joyous vernal rains?
They who died on the way unfinished home.
Far in the distant Nile Valley.
Unable to return.
(Poem by Gourgen Mahari, translated from the Armenian by James Russell)
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7. |
Rose
03:05
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There is a rose in my garden,
a crimson rose opening in my heart.
Rosy cheeks blossoming like a young pomegranate plant,
which loves the earth like spring.
Like a rising sun in the sky,
both weep, both love from within.
Like a rising moon in the night,
like summer rain watering my rose garden,
as if it were a life.
It is you in my dreams at night;
ev'ry moment I see you in my mind;
you are running through my soul
like blood runs through my veins
with joy.
[translation of a poem in Turkish by
"İskan Açıkça"
Bir gülüm var bahçemde
Açıldı yüreğim deki kızıl gül
Al al yanakları
Nar fidan gibi çiçek açmış
Topraǧı sevdigi kadar
İlkbahar mevsimi gibi
Gök-yüzüne doǧan güneş gibi
Hem aǧlar
Hem sever içten içe
Geceleri doǧar ay gibi
Yaz yaǧmuru akar gibi
Suluyor gülbahçemi
Bir hayat gibi
Geceler rüyamda sensin
Her an kardeşim hayalsin
Ruhuma akıp gidiyorsun
Damarımdakı kan gibi
Coşup gidiyorsun.]
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8. |
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My sister, oh my child, think of that life so mild,
dwelling together, loving at leisure,
loving and dying and in your very land.
The brimming suns of those wan skies
evoke such spells:
charms without reason, as with the treason of eyes tear-welled.
All there is form and beauty, sensual serenity.
Soft gleaming chairs, stroked by the years
gracing our chamber and rare flowers
mingling their odour with scent of amber.
Sumptuous ceilings infinite mirrors gracing our chamber,
and subtle splendours:
all would accord secrets: sweet secrets to the soul in their own words.
And all is form and beauty, sensual ecstasy.
On the canal float and rock the boats in errant mood.
It is to soothe your every whim from far they come.
The setting sun enflames the town, the fields, canals alike, in gold and hyacinth,
while the world sinks into a warm warm light.
There all is formal beauty, calm sensuality.
(Poem by S N Solomons after Baudelaire's poem L'invitation au voyage)
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9. |
Christmas Haikus
02:26
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I said to the snow,
"Show me what you know of God."
Brightness blinded me.
To the stars I said,
"Speak then from a gentler light."
Their word was silence.
I called to the wind,
"Whisper the glory of God."
Its breath took my breath.
I asked the holly
"What do you know of his love?"
Her thorns drew my blood.
Haikus by Canon Albert E Radcliffe (Manchester Cathedral, UK)
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10. |
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Young man, twenty four,
lookin' for a soul mate:
slim dark handsome versatile.
Who will answer?
Will it be the man of my dreams?
Will he be the one,
will he write to me,
will he like my style,
will we get on?
Looking, just looking
at the personal ads,
can we find true love?
Are they the people
waiting only for us?
Waiting for a letter,
waiting for a letter,
looking, looking.
Kindly lady, thirty eight,
cuddly butch and lively,
likes a laugh and country walks.
Who will answer?
Will it be the girl of my dreams?
Will she be the one,
will she write to me,
will she like my style,
will we get on?
[Chorus]
Leather wearing, fifty four,
into whips and bondage:
genuine answers only, please!
Who will answer,
will it be the whip of my dreams?
Will he be the one,
will he write to me,
will he like my style,
will we get on?
[Chorus]
Grey panther ninety two,
into older women,
cuddle to my Zimmerframe,
Who will answer,
will it be the crutch of my dreams?
Will she be the one,
will she write to me,
will she like my style,
will we get on?
[Chorus]
(Words by David W Solomons)
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David Warin Solomons Sale, UK
Composer from UK born in 1953, concentrating on lyrical and tonal works for chamber music combinations, solo voice and choral works.
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