Sunday, July 23, 2017

Wislawa Syzmborska: Conversation with a Stone

I knock at the stone's front door
"It's only me, let me come in.
I want to enter your insides,
have a look around,
breathe my fill of you."

"Go away," says the stone.
"I'm shut tight.
Even if you break me to pieces,
we'll all still be closed.
You can grind us to sand,
we still won't let you in."

I knock at the stone's front door.
"It's only me, let me come in.
I've come out of pure curiosity.
Only life can quench it.
I mean to stroll through your palace,
then go calling on a leaf, a drop of water.
I don't have much time.
My mortality should touch you."

"I'm made of stone," says the stone.
"And must therefore keep a straight face.
Go away.
I don't have the muscles to laugh."

I knock at the stone's front door.
"It's only me, let me come in.
I hear you have great empty halls inside you,
unseen, their beauty in vain,
soundless, not echoing anyone's steps.
Admit you don't know them well yourself.

"Great and empty, true enough," says the stone,
"but there isn't any room.
Beautiful, perhaps, but not to the taste
of your poor senses.
You may get to know me but you'll never know me through.
My whole surface is turned toward you,
all my insides turned away."

I knock at the stone's front door.
"It's only me, let me come in.
I don't seek refuge for eternity.
I'm not unhappy.
I'm not homeless.
My world is worth returning to.
I'll enter and exit empty-handed.
And my proof I was there
will be only words,
which no one will believe."

"You shall not enter," says the stone.
"You lack the sense of taking part.
No other sense can make up for your missing sense of taking part.
Even sight heightened to become all-seeing
will do you no good without a sense of taking part.
You shall not enter, you have only a sense of what that sense should be,
only its seed, imagination."

I knock at the stone's front door.
"It's only me, let me come in.
I haven't got two thousand centuries,
so let me come under your roof."

"If you don't believe me," says the stone,
"just ask the leaf, it will tell you the same.
Ask a drop of water, it will say what the leaf has said.
And, finally, ask a hair from your own head.
I am bursting from laughter, yes, laughter, vast laughter,
although I don't know how to laugh."I knock at the stone's front door.
"It's only me, let me come in.
"I don't have a door," says the stone.

Takashi Yoshimatsu: Kamui-Chikap Symphony (Symphony No. 1), Op. 40

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Antonín Dvořák: Song to the Moon

Silver moon upon the deep dark sky,
Through the vast night pierce your rays.
This sleeping world you wander by,
Smiling on man's homes and ways.
Oh moon ere past you glide, tell me,
Tell me, oh where does my loved one bide?
Oh moon ere past you glide, tell me
Tell me, oh where does my loved one bide?
Tell him, oh tell him, my silver moon,
Mine are the arms that shall hold him,
That between waking and sleeping he may
Think of the love that enfolds him,
May between waking and sleeping
Think of the love that enfolds him.
Light his path far away, light his path,
Tell him, oh tell him who does for him stay!
Human soul, should it dream of me, Let my memory wakened be.
Moon, moon, oh do not wane, do not wane,
Moon, oh moon, do not wane....

Monday, July 17, 2017

Einojuhani Rautavaara: Symphony No. 7 "Angel of Light"

Arnold Bax: Symphony No. 1

Hermann Hesse: Sobre el Amor

Supe que ser amado no es nada, que amar, sin embargo, lo es todo. Y creí ver cada vez más claro que lo que hace valiosa y placentera la existencia es nuestro sentimiento y nuestra sensibilidad. Donde quiera que viese en la tierra algo que pudiera llamarse “felicidad”, ésta se componía de sentimientos. El dinero no era nada, el poder tampoco. Veía a muchos que poseían ambas cosas y eran desdichados. La belleza no era nada; veía a hombres y mujeres bellos, que a pesar de toda su belleza eran desdichados. Tampoco la salud contaba demasiado. Cada cual era tan sano como se sentía; había enfermos que rebosaban de vitalidad hasta poco antes de su fin, y personas sanas que se marchitaban, angustiadas por el temor de sufrir. La dicha, sin embargo, siempre estaba allí donde un hombre tenía sentimientos fuertes y vivía para ellos, sin reprimirlos ni violarlos, sino cuidándolos y disfrutándolos. La belleza no hacía feliz al que la tenía, sino al que sabía amarla y venerarla.

Aparentemente existían muy diversos sentimientos, pero en el fondo todos eran uno. A cualquiera de ellos puede llamársele voluntad o cualquier otra cosa. Yo lo llamo amor. La dicha es amor y nada más. El que es capaz de amar es feliz. Todo movimiento de nuestra alma en el que ésta se sienta a sí misma y sienta la vida, es amor. Por tanto es dichoso aquel que ama mucho. Sin embargo, amar y desear no es exactamente lo mismo. El amor es deseo hecho sabiduría; el amor no quiere poseer, sólo quiere amar. Por eso también era feliz el filósofo que mecía en una red de pensamientos su amor al mundo y que lo envolvía una y otra vez con su red amorosa. Pero yo no era filósofo.

Guillaume Groen Van Prinsterer: Revolutionary Opportunists

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Gustav Holst: The Planets, Op. 32

"The Planets", Op. 32, is a seven-movement orchestral suite by the English composer Gustav Holst, written between 1914 and 1916. Each movement of the suite is named after a planet of the Solar System and its corresponding astrological character as defined by Holst. With the exception of Earth, which is not observed in astrological practice, all the planets are represented.
The idea of the work was suggested to Holst by Clifford Bax, who introduced him to astrology when the two were part of a small group of English artists holidaying in Majorca in the spring of 1913; Holst became quite a devotee of the subject, and liked to cast his friends' horoscopes for fun.
The suite has seven movements, each named after a planet and its corresponding astrological character:
1. Mars, the Bringer of War (00:00 - 07:21)
2. Venus, the Bringer of Peace (07:22 - 15:59);
3. Mercury, the Winged Messenger (16:00 - 19:51);
4. Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity (19:52 - 27:49);
5. Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age (27:50 - 36:31);
6. Uranus, the Magician (36:32 - 42:14)
7. Neptune, the Mystic (42:15 - 49:01).
Holst's original title (clearly seen on the handwritten full score) was "Seven Pieces for Large Orchestra". he orchestral premiere of The Planets suite, conducted at Holst's request by Adrian Boult, was held at short notice on 29 September 1918, during the last weeks of World War I, in the Queen's Hall with the financial support of Holst's friend and fellow composer Henry Balfour Gardiner. It was hastily rehearsed; the musicians of the Queen's Hall Orchestra first saw the complicated music only two hours before the performance, and the choir for "Neptune" was recruited from pupils from St Paul's Girls' School (where Holst taught). It was a comparatively intimate affair, attended by around 250 invited associates, but Holst regarded it as the public premiere, inscribing Boult's copy of the score, "This copy is the property of Adrian Boult who first caused the Planets to shine in public and thereby earned the gratitude of Gustav Holst."