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Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus
Dominus Deus Sabbaoth
Sanctus Sanctus Dominus Sanctus
Pleni sunt caeli et terra gloria Tua
Osanna in excelsis
Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini
Osanna in excelsis.
Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi
Miserere nobis
Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi
Dona nobis pacem
Amen
(Holy, holy holy
Lord God of Hosts
Holy holy Lord holy
Heaven and earth are full of your glory
Hosanna in the highest
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord
Hosanna in the highest
Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world
Have mercy on us
Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world
Give us peace
Amen)
Recently rediscovered work from 1975 - with special thanks to Nigel Warner for discovering and returning my manuscript and to Alexandr Burikov for entering it on Finale notation for me.
Score and guitar part:
https://www.sheetmusicdirect.com/se/ID_No/1473794/Product.aspx?affiliate=65222
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Souvenir, souvenir, que me veux-tu? L'automne
Faisait voler la grive à travers l'air atone,
Et le soleil dardait un rayon monotone
Sur le bois jaunissant où la bise détone.
Nous étions seul à seule et marchions en rêvant,
Elle et moi, les cheveux et la pensée au vent.
Soudain, tournant vers moi son regard émouvant :
"Quel fut ton plus beau jour?" fit sa voix d'or vivant,
Sa voix douce et sonore, au frais timbre angélique.
Un sourire discret lui donna la réplique,
Et je baisai sa main blanche, dévotement.
-- Ah! les premières fleurs, qu'elles sont parfumées !
Et qu'il bruit avec un murmure charmant
Le premier oui qui sort de lèvres bien-aimées !
English translation by S N Solomons:
Memory, what would you have of me? Autumn
Drove the thrush up through the atonic air
And the pale sun pierced in monotone
The chill and windy woods and the leaf flare.
Together but alone we went our ways,
Hair blown awry and monad thoughts unfurled.
Sudden she turned to me her tender gaze:
"What was your finest day?" - a voice of gold,
Dulcet and low, ineffable and fresh.
And I said nothing, offered her a smile,
Seized her pale hand and pressed a kiss.
Ah those first flowers of spring how sweet they were,
And that first whispered "Yes", how it beguiled,
Won from those lovely lips with gentle murmur.
(c) S N Solomons
This setting of Paul Verlaine's poem "Nevermore" plays on an ambiguity of major and minor modes, swaying back and forth between the tonal centres of G minor and E flat major
Score
https://www.sheetmusicplus.com/title/22681386?aff_id=65222
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Voici venir les temps où vibrant sur sa tige
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir;
Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l'air du soir;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir;
Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu'on afflige;
Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir.
Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu'on afflige,
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir!
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir;
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige.
Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir,
Du passé lumineux recueille tout vestige!
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige...
Ton souvenir en moi luit comme un ostensoir!
Now the times come when the flowers, vibrating
On their stem, evaporate like thuribles,
The sounds and smells turn in the evening air
Sad waltz and languid intoxication
Each flower evaporates like a thurible
The violin quivers like a heart that's torn
Sad waltz and languid intoxication
The sky is sad and beautiful, a huge altar of repose,
The violin quivers like an afflicted heart
A tender heart that hates the vast black emptiness
The sky is sad and beautiful, a huge altar of repose
The sun has drowned in its setting blood
A tender heart that hates the vast black emptiness
Recall each glowing moment of times gone by!
The sun has drowned in its setting blood
Your memory shines in me as my own monstrance
Poem by Baudelaire (from Les Fleurs du mal). The guitar part contains many tremolo and harmonics effects.
Score and Parts:
https://www.sheetmusicplus.com/title/22681388?aff_id=65222
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The sun sets on Venus
a whisper of sound goes abroad
Is it a boat crossing an empty lake
without an oarsman?
is it a memory of the earth
come stumbling here
or a flower turning towards the light
spicing the alien air
among those birdless trees ...
The sun sets on Venus.
Words by Graham Buck after Supervielle
Score and Separate guitar part:
https://www.sheetmusicplus.com/title/19984422?aff_id=175705
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Oh gentle Lady of the stars,
who bore the Son,
Oh Lady of the moondust sky,
who bore the One,
who from the twelve-sung Heavens came.
For one who cries,
cries!
Oh Lady of the sickle-throning moon,
of your pity tender,
pray,
oh pray for me.
Oh gentle Lady,
pray,
pray for me.
(c) 1993 Audrey Vaughan
Score and Separate guitar part:
https://www.sheetmusicplus.com/title/19984426?aff_id=175705
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On come the dancers of the mind
Their bodies are incarnate devotion
A silent hymn on behalf of mankind
To thank their god for the gift of motion ...
See them in your mind.
Composed in 1979 for the dancer Siobhán Davies
Interesting use of guitar harmonics
Score and Separate guitar part:
https://www.sheetmusicplus.com/title/20728337?aff_id=175705
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En province dans la langueur matutinale,
Tinte le carillon, tinte avec la douceur
De l'aube qui regarde avec des yeux de soeur,
Tinte le carillon, - et sa musique pâle
S'effeuille fleur à fleur sur les toits d'alentour,
Et sur les escaliers des pignons noirs s'effeuille
Comme un bouquet de sons mouillés que le vent cueille;
Musique du matin qui tombe de la tour,
Qui tombe de très loin en guirlandes fanées,
Qui tombe de Naguère en invisibles lis
En pétales si lents, si froids et si pâlis,
Qu'ils semblent s'effeuiller du front mort des Années.
Up country, in the lazy morning air,
The bells ring out amid the velvet rise
Of Dawn, gazing around with gentle eyes;
The peals spill forth ... their music, pale and fair,
Spends all its blossoms on the roofs in showers,
And on the darkling serried eaves flings
Bouquets of sparkling sound culled by the wind.
Music of Morning tumbling from the towers,
Falling from afar in faded garlands,
Falling from yesterday in blooms invisible,
Petals so slow, so icy cold and pale,
Fluttering from the dead brow of Time.
(c)S N Solomons
Poem by Rodenbach, with English translation by S N Solomons (Still of morning - Up Country), music by D W Solomons. The song is in French for the first half and in English translation for the (repeated) second half.
Score and Separate guitar part:
https://www.sheetmusicplus.com/title/20044305?aff_id=175705
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released February 24, 2024
Composed by David Warin Solomons
