TREBLE CHOIR
Dum Spiro Spero (While I breathe, I hope) Andrea Ramsey (b. 1977)
Lorelei Clara Schumann (1819-1896), Brandon Williams (b. 1981)
Ich weiß nicht was soll es bedeuten, / I know not what may be the meaning
Daß ich so traurig bin; / Of this sadness I feel;
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten, / A fairytale from time long past,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn. / I cannot get it out of my mind.
Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt, / Cool is the air, darkness is descending,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein; / And the Rhine flows quietly;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt, / The top of the mountain is aglow
Im Abendsonnenschein. / In the evening sunset.
Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet / A maiden most beautiful sits
Dort oben wunderbar, / Wonderfully there above,
Ihr gold’nes Geschmeide blitzet, / Her golden trinkets sparkle,
Sie kämme ihr goldenes Haar. / She combs her golden hair.
Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme, / She combs it with a comb of gold
Und singt ein Lied dabei; / Singing a song awhile;
Das hat eine wundersame, Gewalt’ge Melodei. / It has a wondrous, most powerful melody.
Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe, / The boatman in his little boat
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh; / Is seized by fierce sorrow;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe, / He does not see the rocky cliffs,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh’. / He only gazes up to the heights.
Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen / I think the waves in the end
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn; / Will devour both boatman and boat;
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen Die Lorelei getan. / And this by her singing the Lorelei has done.
-Words by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)
Peace I Leave With You Amy Beach (1867-1944), arr. Steven Olson (b. 1999)
Peace I leave with you, I leave with you my peace, I give unto you.
Not as the world giveth give I unto you.
Let not your heart be troubled,
Be the Seed Joan Szymko (b. 1957)
Be the seed with feather crown,
Be the bead bristling with legacy for life.
Lift your gift, go seeking, sifting down
Into this seam in concrete wet, forsaken
Yearning for a root thread you send fingering,
Lingering, loving ever deeper into
Dense dark.
Be the seed. Be the shred of living.
Be the shred of living light Bedded in the broken world.
Be not afraid, No matter how small your poor power
Against the powers that be- No worry, no fear.
Be the seed where you are
For the long game, the strong change
By the many and the small.
All of us in our circle wider than division,
Flowing, growing, greening, reaching,
Waking, winding, rooting, Singing, bringing
With feathered crown the seed.
-Poetry by Kim Stafford (b. 1941)
Where Your Bare Foot Walks David N. Childs (b. 1969)
I want to be where your bare foot walks,
Because maybe before you step you’ll look at the ground.
I want that blessing.
I open and fill with love and all other objects evaporate.
All the learning in books stays put on the shelf.
Poetry, the dear words and images of song, comes down over me like water.
I want to be where your bare foot walks,
Because maybe before you step you’ll look at the ground.
This is how I would die Into the love I have for you:
As pieces of cloud Dissolve in sunlight.
-Poetry by Rumi (1207-1273)
The Gift to Sing Zachary J. Moore (b. 1992)
Sometimes the mist overhangs my path,
And blackening clouds about me cling;
But, oh, I have a magic way
To turn the gloom to cheerful day-
I softly sing.
And if the way grows darker still,
Shadowed by Sorrow’s somber wing,
With glad defiance in my throat,
I pierce the darkness with a note,
And sing, and sing.
I brood not over the broken past,
Nor dread whatever time may bring;
No nights are dark, no days are long,
While in my heart there swells a song,
And I can sing.
-Poetry by James Weldon Johnson (1871-1938)
Blessing Katie Moran Bart (b. 1956)
May the road rise up to meet you; May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face, And the rains fall soft upon your fields.
Until we meet again, my friend, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
-An Old Irish Verse
ACOUSTIKATS
PAWS AND LISTEN
MEN'S CHORUS
Kyrie Gregorian Chant
Kyrie, eléison. / Lord, have mercy
Christe, eléison. / Christ, have mercy
Kyrie, eléison. / Lord, have mercy
We are the music makers Reginal Wright (b. 1976)
We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams; —
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
-Poetry by Aurthur O’Shaugnessy (1844-1881)
O Vos Omnes Andrea Ramsey (b. 1977)
O vos omnes, qui transitis per viam, / O all you, who pass along this way
Attendite et viete / pay attention and see
Si est dolor, / if there is any sorrow
Sicut dolor meus / like unto my sorrow
-Lamentations 1:12
Tantsulaul Veljo Tormis (1930-2017)
Las aga meie Mari tula, / Let our Mari come,
küll mina teen tal jalad alla. / I shall get her on her feet.
Ait-tali-tali-raa, ali-ramp-tamp-taa. / Ait-tali-rali-raa, ali-ramp-tamp-taa.
Utireetu, utireetu, trallallaa. / Utireetu, utireetu, trallalla.
Mul sukakannas suured augud / My socks heels have holes
just nagu vana mära laugud. / like an old mare’s blaze.
Kōrv minul ajab jorupilli, / My ears are singing
Alt-Tare Ju¨ri torupilli. / as if Ju¨ri from next door was playing the pipes.
-Text Edited by Paul-Eerik Rummo
Good Timber Susan LaBarr (b. 1981)
The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.
Good timber does not grow with ease,
The stronger wind, the stronger trees,
The further sky, the greater length,
The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
In trees and men good timbers grow.
Where thickest lies the forest growth
We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold counsel with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds ad much of strife.
This is the common law of life.
-Poetry by Douglas Malloch (1877-1938)
Benedicamus Gratis Gregorian Chant
Benedica´mus Do´mino / Let us bless the Lord
Auld Lang Syne Scottish Folk Tune, arr. Erick Lichte (b. 1975)
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne
We twa hae run about the braes
and pou’d the gowans fine;
but we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
sin’ auld lang syne.
We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
frae morning sun till dine;
but seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin’ auld lang syne.
And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere
And gie’s a hand o’ thine
-Words by Robert Burns (1759-1796)
