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Original Werther

by David Warin Solomons

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1.
Original poem by W M Thackeray 1811-1863 WERTHER had a love for Charlotte Such as words could never utter; Would you know how first he met her? She was cutting bread and butter. Charlotte was a married lady, And a moral man was Werther, And for all the wealth of Indies Would do nothing for to hurt her. So he sigh’d and pin’d and ogled, And his passion boil’d and bubbled Till he blew his silly brains out, And no more was by it troubled. Charlotte, having seen his body Borne before her on a shutter, Like a well-conducted person, Went on cutting bread and butter."
2.
German translation by David W Solomons In Charlott' verliebt sich Werther Unaussprechlich Liebe loht Und weisst du wie er ihr begegnet ist? Sie bestrich mit Butter Brot! Unsre Lotte war nicht ledig Werthers Wege war'n die graden Und um allen Schatz aus Indien Wollt' er ihr mitnichten schaden Also musst'er nach ihr schmachten Da die Inbrunst an ihm nagte Er schoss sich in den blöden Kopf damit es ihn nicht mehr plagte Als Charlotte sah den Helden statt vorm Leichnam zu erbleichen Wie eine wohlerzogene Fuhr sie fort, Brot zu bestreichen!
3.
French translation by David W Solomons Werther aimait la Charlotte d'un amour pas à deviner Savez-vous comme il fit la rencontre Elle fut en train de tartiner Mais elle était mariée, Werther était bien moral Et il n'avait même pour tout argent, nul désir de lui faire mal Il languissait et la passion Bouillait d'un grand feu ému Et le sot se brûla la cervelle Et ne s'en occupa plus Quand elle vit son beau cadavre elle ne fit pas laide mine Mais en femme bien élevée fit à nouveau ses tartines!
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Al Hanisim 03:41
Al hanisim v'al hapurkan, V'al hag'vurot v'al hat'shuot V'al hamilchamot sheasita lavoteinu Bayamim haheim baz'man hazeh. Sing to G-d, for G-d has done wonders! Come sing to G-d for G-d has redeemed us, For G-d is our salvation in ev'ry generation, From ancient times until this very day.
7.
Kindle the taper like the steadfast star Ablaze on evening’s forehead o’er the earth, And add each night a lustre till afar An eightfold splendor shine above thy hearth. Clash, Israel, the cymbals, touch the lyre, Blow the brass trumpet and the harsh-tongued horn; Chant psalms of victory till the heart takes fire, The Maccabean spirit leap new-born.
8.
The sky is dark, the earth is white, oh bells ring out with joy Jesus is born, the Virgin quiet shelters her baby boy. Noel Noel Noel bells ring out with joy! No wraps No festooned curtains spread to shield the child from frost nothing but flimsy spider webs trail from the beams aloft. He shivers in that cold stable this Jesus child so dear, and so to warm him in the cradle, the ass and ox draw near. The snow hangs down in lacy fringe. But far above the heavens swell reveal the angel choir that sings to men Noel Noel (The original poem by Gautier is: Le ciel est noir, la terre est blanche. Cloches, carillonnez gaîment! Jésus est né; la Vierge penche Sur lui son visage charmant. Pas de courtines festonnées Pour préserver l'enfant du froid; Rien que les toiles d'araignées Qui Pendent des poutres du toit. Il tremble sur la paille fraîche, Ce cher petit enfant Jésus, Et pour l'échauffer dans sa crèche L'âne et le bœuf soufflent dessus. La neige au chaume pend ses franges, Mais sur le toit s'ouvre le Ciel, Et, tout en blanc, le chœur des anges Chante aux bergers: "Noël! Noël!"
9.
I saw a stranger yestreen I put food in the eating place Drink in the drinking place. Music in the hearing place. In the sacred name of the Triune, he blessed myself and-my house, my cattle and my dear ones. And the lark sang in her song "Often comes the Christ in the stranger's guise"
10.
McQuiddity 01:50
McQuiddity, McQuiddity, there's no-one like McQuiddity His errors are so vulgar and so coarse in their solidity You may walk along the pavement You may step upon the stair It's odorously evident McQuiddity's been there McQuiddity, McQuiddity, there's no-one like McQuiddity He doesn't know the meaning of decorum or timidity He barks at friends and neighbours and will give the boss a scare But when burglars cart the silver off, he doesn't turn a hair If you stagger through a doorway With an overloaded tray You can bet that old McQuiddity's lying in the way If the chocolates vanish overnight or gloves vacate a chair Then it's absolutely certain that McQuiddity's been there. McQuiddity, McQuiddity, there's no-one like McQuiddity He's totally unrivalled in the depth of his stupidity His canine infelicities no cretin could surpass He's undisputed champion of the disobedience class McQuiddity!
11.
The learned hippopotamus Uses long words like "dichotomous" If they don't exist, he makes them up. The true scholars and the high-brows Raise their supercilious eyebrows But he blows bubbles at them all. Glug, glug and glug!
12.
A thin young cat sat on a pickle vat slat and spied through a slot Inside was a lot of pickled peppers, hot! hot! and one was fat like a rat So she stretched out her paw Pulled it out with her claw and sank her teeth in firm But it wasn't a rat and our cat spat and scat from the pickle vat A fat cat sat on a mat a traditional cat sat on a mat cat!
13.
In the last village on earth the parish pump is an ancient monument, now working on piped water. On Sundays, specially selected teams from a nearby town don traditional costumes. Handbooks explain the rules for bystanders observing: "Cricket on the Village Green." Retirement pensioners, paid small sums to doze outside the inn, have difficulty with their lines, forget to touch their caps when “The Squire of the Year” – winner of a competition in a popular Sunday newspaper – salutes from his vintage car. Every afternoon, the ‘Parish Council’ resolves, nem. con, “In this the last village on earth, to preserve the local amenities, the roads shall lead nowhere.”
14.
The filling 01:58
First locate the area of pain: with thought's long needle put it to sleep. Then select, from an armoury of probes, implements adequate to the gross rubbish neglect has collected. Now, carve out thoughtfully (but at high speed) the shape of things to come; a cavity free from care secure from further wear and tear: with a whistle of wit blow it dry. Last, insert with the most steady hand the lining of laughter; press home in even measure the hard drying hope, leaving a smoothed surface where the world witnesses it. Time to be up and off having learned, half-heartedly again, the old lesson of pain with an almost new smile. Free to depart, having signed the formal acknowledgement of error.
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about

Music relating to various human emotions, attitudes and states of mind,
starting from a satirical poem about the youthful angst of Werther
(Thackeray's satirical poem on Goethe's Sturm und Drang novel
"Die Leiden des jungen Werthers") and working through various sorrows, joys, comical frustration and tragedy on to a final concept of
being totally lost in microtones.

credits

released January 8, 2016

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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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