The World in Flower by Peter Lieberson

Los angeles master chorale
Brahms requiem
The World in Flower
by Peter Lieberson
I Live my Life in Widening Circles
By Rainer Maria Rilke
I live my life in widening circles
Moving over the things of the world
I may not reach the final circle
But that is what I shall attempt to do
I circle ‘round God, ‘round the ancient tower
And I’ve been circling and circling for thousands of years
I still don’t know: am I a falcon,
A storm or an endless song?
Owl Woman’s Song
By Juana Maxwell
How shall I begin my song
In the blue night that is settling?
In the great night my heart will go out in the great night.
Toward me, the darkness comes rattling.
Brown owls come here in the blue evening,
They are hooting about,
They are shaking their wings and hooting.
Black Butte is far.
Below it I had my dawn.
I could see the daylight coming back for me.
The morning star is up.
I cross the mountains into the light of the sea.
That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire
and of the Comfort of the Resurrection
By Gerard Manley Hopkins
Cloud-puffball, torn tufts, tossed pillows | flaunt forth, then chevy on an airBuilt thoroughfare: heaven-roysterers, in gay-gangs | they throng; they
glitter in marches.
Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash, | wherever an elm arches,
Shivelights and shadowtackle in long | lashes lace, lance, and pair.
Delightfully the bright wind boisterous | ropes, wrestles, beats earth bare
Of yestertempest’s creases; | in pool and rut peel parches
Squandering ooze to squeezed | dough, crust, dust; stanches, starches
Squadroned masks and manmarks | treadmire toil there
Footfretted in it. Million-fuelèd, | nature’s bonfire burns on.
But quench her bonniest, dearest | to her, her clearest-selvèd spark
Man, how fast his firedint, | his mark on mind, is gone!
Both are in an unfathomable, all is in an enormous dark
Drowned. O pity and indig | nation! Manshape, that shone
Sheer off, disseveral, a star, | death blots black out; nor mark
Is any of him at all so stark
But vastness blurs and time | beats level. Enough! the Resurrection,
A heart’s-clarion! Away grief’s gasping, | joyless days, dejection.
Across my foundering deck shone
A beacon, an eternal beam. | Flesh fade, and mortal trash
Fall to the residuary worm; | world’s wildfire, leave but ash:
In a flash, at a trumpet crash,
I am all at once what Christ is, | since he was what I am, and
This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, | patch, matchwood, immortal diamond,
Is immortal diamond.
From the Odes of Solomon
My heart was split, and a flower appeared;
and grace sprang up;
and it bore fruit for my God.
You split me, tore my heart open, filled me with love.
You poured your spirit into me;
I knew you as I know myself.
Speaking waters touched me from your fountain,
The source of life.
I swallowed them and was drunk with the water that never dies.
And you have made all things new;
You have showed me all things shining.
You have granted me perfect ease;
I have become like Paradise,
a garden whose fruit is joy; and you are the sun upon me.
My eyes are radiant with your spirit;
my nostrils fill with your fragrance.
My ears delight in your music,
and my face is covered with your dew.
Blessed are the men and women who are planted in your garden,
who grow as your trees and flowers grow,
who transform their darkness into light.
Their roots plunge into darkness;
Their faces turn toward the light.
All those who love you are beautiful;
they overflow with your presence
so that they can do nothing but good.
There is infinite space in your garden;
All men and women are welcome here;
All they need do is enter.
Excerpts from Rumi and Mechtild of Magdeburg
Cry out!
Don’t be stolid and silent with your pain.
Cry out! Lament!
And let the milk of loving flow into you.
Roar, roar, lion of the heart,
And tear me open!
Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you’re perfectly free.
I cannot dance, O Lord,
Unless You lead me.
If You wish me to leap joyfully,
Let me see You dance and sing –
Then I will leap into Love –
Love into Knowledge,
Into the Harvest,
That sweetest Fruit.
There I will stay with You, whirling.
Flow down and down,
Flow down in always
Widening rings of being.
We are the night ocean filled
With glints of light.
We are the space between the fish and the moon…
—1—
Los angeles master chorale
Brahms requiem
Prelude – The Great Sea…
By Uvavnuk
The great sea has set me in motion,
set me adrift,
moving me like a weed in a river.
The sky and the strong wind have moved the spirit inside me
till I am carried away trembling with joy.
Oceana
By Pablo Neruda
Oceana nupcial, caderas de las islas,
aquí a mi lado, cántame los desaparecidos
cantares, signos números del río deseado.
Quiero oír lo invisible, lo que cayó del tiempo
al palio equinoccial de las palmeras.
Dame el vino secreto que guarda cada sílaba:
ir y venir de espumas, razas de miel caídas
al cántaro marino sobre los arrecifes.
Ocean Lady, bride, hips of the islands,
here, beside me, sing to me, the vanished
songs, signs, numbers from the river of desire.
I want to listen to the invisible, things fallen out of time
onto the equinox’s canopy of palm trees.
Give me the secret wine guarded within each syllable,
the comings and goings of waves, races of honey
fallen into the sea’s bucket, washed up on the reefs.
Yo no soy, yo perdí los días, porque entonces
me faltaba, Oceana, tu guitarra florida,
y era de madreperla la boca de la aurora:
entraba la marea, con su trueno en las islas
y todo era fulgor, menos mi vida,
menos mi corazón sin azahares.
I don’t exist – I lost days because back then,
Ocean Lady, I didn’t embrace your flowery guitar.
The dawn’s mouth glittered like mother-of-pearl.
Like thunder, surf penetrated the islands,
and everything churned to brilliance, except my life,
except my heart, yearning for orange blossoms.
Oceana, reclina tu noche en el castillo
que aguardó sin cesar pasar tu cabellera
en cada ola que el mar elevaba en el mar
y luego no eras tú sino el mar que pasaba,
sino el mar sino el mar y yo qué pude hacer:
era tarde, otro día se abría con mi llave,
otra puerta, y el mar continuaba vacío.
Ocean lady, give your twilight rest in the castle
which faithfully awaited the passage of your lush hair,
in every wave that the sea raised up from its chasm,
and then you weren’t yourself – but instead the fugitive sea,
the sea, the sea, and what could I do?
It was late, another day was opening with my key,
another door, and the sea extended emptiness.
Entonces fui gastando mi sonrisa y cayeron
uno a uno mis dientes en la caja de hierro.
Furioso contemplé los santos enlutados,
los ataúdes de ámbar que traía el crepúsculo,
los minerales prisioneros en su abismo
las algas lastimeras meciéndose en la niebla
y sin tocar tus párpados, Oceana amarilla,
Oceana negra, Oceana de manos transparentes,
estiré mis sentidos hasta que sin saberlo
se desató en el mar la rosa repentina.
Back then I wandered, wasting my smile.
One by one, my teeth dropped into an iron box.
Furiously, I contemplated saints in mourning,
amber coffins carried by the dawn,
minerals imprisoned in their abyss,
the miserable algae rocking themselves in the fog,
and without touching your eyelids, golden Ocean Lady,
black Ocean Lady, Ocean Lady with transparent hands,
I stretched my senses, until without knowing it,
A sudden rose unfurled, blossoming over the sea.
-Translation by Maria Jacketti
Prelude
By Marguerite Porete
Beloved, what do you want of me?
Beloved, I contain all that is, that was, and shall be.
Tell me, beloved, what do you want of me?
I am love, what you want, we want, beloved –
tell us your desire.
—2—
Los angeles master chorale
Brahms requiem
From Leaves of Grass
By Walt Whitman
I hear you whispering there O stars of heaven,
O suns…O grass of graves…
O grass of graves…if you do not say anything how can I say anything?
Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest,
Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing twilight,
Toss, sparkles of day and dusk…toss on the black stems that decay in
the muck,
Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs.
I ascend from the moon…I ascend from the night,
And perceive of the ghastly glimmer the sunbeams reflected.
There is that in me…I do not know what it is…but I know it is in me.
Wrenched and sweaty…calm and cool then my body becomes,
I sleep…I sleep long.
I do not know it…it is without name…it is a word unsaid,
Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on,
To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes me.
Perhaps I might tell more… I plead for my brothers and sisters.
Do you see O my brothers and sisters?
It is not chaos or death…It is form and union and plan…It is eternal life…
it is happiness.
Prayers from the Navajo
As I speak for you,
As you speak for me,
So will I speak for you.
Watch over me,
Hold your hand before me in protection.
Stand guard for me.
Speak in defense of me.
As I speak for you,
Speak for me.
As you speak for me, so will I speak for you.
Speak for me.
I ask all blessings,
I ask them with reverence,
May it be beautiful before me,
May it be beautiful behind me,
I ask all blessings, of my mother the earth,
I ask them with reverence, of the sky, of the moon, of the sun my father.
May it be beautiful above me,
May it be beautiful all around me.
I am restored in beauty.
All is peaceful,
All in beauty,
All in harmony,
All in joy!
Ein Deutsches Requiem
by Johannes Brahms
I.
Selig sind, die da Leid tragen,
denn sie sollen getröstet werden.
Die mit Tränen säen,
werden mit Freuden ernten.
Sie gehen hin und weinen und
tragen edlen Samen,
und kommen mit Freuden
und bringen ihre Garben.
I.
Blessed are they that mourn:
for they shall be comforted.
They that sow in tears shall reap
in joy.
They that go forth and weep,
bearing precious seed,
shall doubtless come again with
rejoicing,
bringing their sheaves with them.
II.
Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras
und alle Herrlichkeit des Menschen
wie des Grases Blumen.
Das Gras ist verdorret und die
Blume abgefallen.
So seid nun geduldig,
lieben Brüder, bis auf die Zukunft
des Herrn.
Siehe ein Ackermann wartet auf
die köstliche Frucht der Erde
und ist geduldig darüber,
bis er empfahe den Morgenregen
und Abendregen.
Aber des Herrn Wort bleibet in
Ewigkeit.
Die Erlöseten des Herrn werden
wieder kommen,
und gen Zion kommen mit
Jauchzen;
ewige Freude wird über ihrem
Haupte sein;
Freude und Wonne werden sie
ergreifen,
und Schmerz und Seufzen wird weg
müssen.
II.
For all flesh is as grass,
and all the glory of man
as the flower of grass.
The grass withers, and the flower
thereof falleth away.
Be patient therefore, brethren,
unto the coming of the Lord.
III.
Herr, lehre doch mich,
daß ein Ende mit mir haben muß,
und mein Leben ein Ziel hat,
und ich davon muß.
Siehe, meine Tage sind einer Hand
breit vor dir,
und mein Leben ist wie nichts vor
dir.
Ach, wie gar nichts sind alle
Menschen,
die doch so sicher leben.
Sie gehen daher wie ein Schemen,
und machen ihnen viel vergebliche
Unruhe;
sie sammeln und wissen nicht wer
es kriegen wird.
Nun Herr, wes soll ich mich
trösten?
Ich hoffe auf dich.
Der Gerechten Seelen sind in
Gottes Hand
und keine Qual rühret sie an.
III.
Lord, make me to know mine end,
and the measure of my days,
what it is:
that I may know how frail I am.
Behold, thou hast made my days as
an handbreadth;
and mine age is as nothing before
thee.
Surely every man
Behold, the husbandman waiteth
for the precious fruit of the earth,
and has long patience for it,
until he receive the morning and
evening rain.
But the word of the Lord endureth
forever.
And the ransomed of the Lord shall
return,
and come to Zion with songs
and everlasting joy upon their
heads:
they shall obtain joy and gladness,
and sorrow
and sighing shall flee away.
walks in a vain show:
surely they are disquieted in vain:
he heaps up riches,
and knows not who shall gather
them.
And now, Lord, what wait I for?
My hope is in thee.
The souls of the righteous are in the
hand of God
and there shall no torment touch
them.
—3—
Los angeles master chorale
Brahms requiem
IV.
Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen,
Herr Zebaoth!
Meine Seele verlanget
und sehnet sich nach den Vorhöfen des Herrn;
mein Leib und Seele freuen sich in dem lebendigen Gott.
Wohl denen, die in deinem Hause wohnen,
die loben dich immerdar.
IV.
How lovely is thy dwelling place,
O Lord of hosts!
My soul longs, yea,
even faints for the courts of the Lord:
my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.
Blessed are they that dwell in thy house:
they will always be praising thee.
V.
Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit;
aber ich will euch wiedersehen
und euer Herz soll sich freuen,
und eure Freude soll niemand von euch nehmen.
Sehet mich an:
ich habe eine kleine Zeit Mühe
und Arbeit gehabt und habe großen Trost funden.
ich will euch trösten,
wie einen seine Mutter tröstet.
V.
And ye now therefore have sorrow:
but I will see you again,
and your heart shall rejoice,
and your joy no man taketh from you.
Behold with your eyes,
how that I have but little labor,
and have gotten unto me much rest.
As one whom his mother comforts,
so will I comfort you.
VI.
Denn wir haben hie keine bleibende Statt,
sondern die zukünftige suchen wir.
Siehe, ich sage euch ein Geheimnis.
Wir werden nicht alle entschlafen,
wir werden aber alle verwandelt werden;
und dasselbige plötzlich, in einem Augenblick,
zu der Zeit der letzen Posaune.
Denn es wird die Posaune schallen,
und die Toten werden auferstehen unverweslich,
und wir werden verwandelt werden.
Dann wird erfüllet werden das Wort,
das geschrieben steht:
Der Tod ist verschlungen in den Sieg.
Tod, wo ist dein Stachel?
Hölle, wo ist dein Sieg?
Herr, du bist würdig zu nehmen Preis und Ehre und Kraft,
denn du hast alle Dinge erschaffen,
und durch deinen Willen haben sie das Wesen
und sind geschaffen.
VI.
For here have we no continuing city,
but we seek one to come.
Behold, I show you a mystery:
we shall not all sleep,
but we shall all be changed,
in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye,
at the last trumpet.
For the trumpet shall sound,
and the dead shall be raised incorruptible,
and we shall be changed.
Then shall be brought to pass
the saying that is written,
Death is swallowed up in victory.
O death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?
Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power:
for thou hast created all things,
and for thy pleasure they are
and were created.
VII.
Selig sind die Toten,
die in dem Herren sterben von nun an.
Ja, der Geist spricht,
daß sie ruhen von ihrer Arbeit;
denn ihre Werke folgen ihnen nach.
VII.
Blessed are the dead,
which die in the Lord, from henceforth.
Yea, says the Spirit,
that they may rest from their labors;
and their works do follow them.
-Translation largely the King James
Version, adapted slightly by Philip Legge
—4—