Muzyka Klasyczna - John Mitchell
    Muzyka klasyczna - Kompozytor John Mitchell


Set by John Mitchell (1941-), op. 24 (1977)
Texts by Emily Brontë (1818-1848) 


1. For the Moors 

 Awaken on all my dear moorlands the wind in its glory and pride!
 O call me from highlands
 To walk by the hillriver's side!

 It is swelled with the first snowy weather
 The rocks are icy and hoar
 And darker waves around the long heather
 And the fernleaves are sunny no more.

 There are no yellow stars on the mountain,
 The bluebells have all died away
 From the brink of the moss-bedded fountain,
 From the side of the wint'ry brae

 But lovelier than cornfields all waving
 In emerald and scarlet and gold
 Are the slopes where the northwind is raving
 And the glens where I wandered of old.

 For the moors,
 For the moors, where the short grass like velvet beneath us should lie!

 For the moors,
 For the moors, where each high pass rose sunny against the clear sky!

 For the moors, where the linnet was trilling its song on the old granite stone;
 For the moors, where the lark, the wild skylark was filling every breast with delight

 What language can utter the feeling
 That rose when in exile afar,
 On the brow of a lonely hill kneeling
 I saw the brown heath growing there.

2. Winter Reflection 

 Cold, clear, and blue, the morning heaven
 Expands its arch on high;
 Cold, clear, and blue Lake Werna's water
 Reflects the winter sky.

 The moon has set, but Venus shines
 A silent silvery star.

3. Tell me, tell me, smiling child 

 Tell me, tell me, smiling child,
 What the past is like to thee?
 "An autumn evening soft and mild
 With a wind that sighs mournfully."

 Tell me, what is the present hour?
 "A green and flowery spray
 Where a young bird sits gathering its power
 To mount and fly away."

 Tell me, tell me, what is the future, happy one?
 "A sea beneath a cloudless sun;
  a mighty, glorious, dazzling sea
 Stretching into infinity.

4. The darkened woods 

 Woods, you need not frown on me;
 Spectral trees that so dolefully
 Shake your heads in the dreary sky,
 You need not mock so bitterly.

5. Celebration 

 High waving heather,
 High waving heather, beneath stormy blasts bending,
 Midnight and moonlight and bright shining stars;
 Darkness and glory rejoicingly blending,
 Earth rising to heaven and heaven descending,
 Man's spirit away from its deep dungeon sending,
 Bursting the fetters
 Bursting the fetters and breaking the bars.

 All down the mountain sides, wild forests lending
 One mighty voice to the lifegiving wind;
 Rivers their banks in the jubilee rending,
 Fast thru the valleys a reckless course wending,
 Wider and deeper their valleys extending,
 Leaving a desolate desert behind.

 Shining and lowering and swelling and dying
 Changing forever from midnight to noon;
 Roaring like thunder like soft music sighing,
 Shadows on shadows advancing and flying,
 Lightning-bright flashes the deep gloom defying,
 Coming as swiftly and fading as soon.
 Coming as swiftly and fading as soon.
 Fading as soon.

6.Evening landscape

 The sun has set, and the long grass 
 Waves dreamily in the evening wind; 
 And the wild bird has flown from that old gray stone 
 In some warm nook a couch to find. 

 In all the lonely landscape round 
 I see no sight and hear no sound, 
 Except the wind which far away
 Come sighing o'er the healthy sea. 

7. I'm happiest when most away 

 I'm happiest when most away
 I can bear my soul from its home of clay
 On a windy night when the moon is bright
 And the eye can wander thru worlds of light

 When I am not and none beside
 Nor earth nor sea nor cloudless sky
 But only spirit wandering wide
 Thru infinite immensity.

8. In summer moonlight 

 Moonlight, summer moonlight,
 All soft, and still and fair;
 The solemn hour of midnight
 Breathes sweetly everywhere.

 But most where trees are sending
 Their breezy boughs on high,
 Or, stooping low, are lending
 A shelter from the sky.

 And there in those wild bowers
 A lovely form is laid;
 Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
 Wave gently round her head.

9.The Old Hall 

 Old Hall of Elbe, ruined, lonely now;
 House to which the voice of life shall never more return;
 Chambers roofless, desolate, where weeds and ivy grow;
 Windows thru whose broken arches the nightwinds sadly mourn;
 Home of the departed, the long-departed dead.

 Old Hall of Elbe, ruined, lonely now.

10. The harp 

 Harp of wild and dreamy strain, when I touch thy strings,
 Why sound out of longforgotten things?
 Harp, in other, earlier days, I could sing to thee;
 And not one of all my lays vexed my memory.

 But now, if I awake a note that gave me joy before
 Sounds of sorrow from thee float,
 Changing evermore.

 Yet, still steeped in memory's dyes, come sailing on,
 Darkening my summer skies,
 Shutting out my sun.

11. The traveler 

 O hinder me by no delay,
 My horse is weary of the way;
 His breast must stem the tide
 Whose waves are foaming far and wide.

 Miles off I heard their thundering roar,
 As fast as they burst upon the shore;
 A stronger steed than mine might dread
 To brave them in their boiling bed.

 So spoke the traveler, but in vain;
 The stranger would not turn away;
 Still she clung to his bridle rein,
 And still entreated him to stay.

12.A spell 

 The night is darkening round me,
 The wild winds coldly blow;
 But a tyrant spell has bound me
 And I cannot, cannot go.

 The giant trees are bending
 Their bare boughs weighed with snow,
 And the storm is fast descending
 And yet I cannot go.

 Clouds upon clouds above me,
 Wastes beyond wastes here below
 But nothing here can move me;
 I cannot, I will not go.

13. The caged bird 

 And like myself alone, wholly alone,
 It sees the day's long sunshine glow;
 And like myself it makes its moan
 In unexhausted woe.

 Give we the hills our equal prayer;
 Earth's breezy hills and heaven's blue sea;
 We ask for nothing further here
 But our own hearts, the joy of liberty.

 Could my hand unlock the chain,
 How gladly would I watch it soar,
 And never regret, and never complain
 To see its shining eyes no more.

14. The pessimist 

 O for the time when I shall sleep without Identity,
 And never care how rain or snow may cover me!
 No promised Heav'n these wild Desires
 Could all or half fulfill;
 No threatened Hell with quenchless fires subdue this quenchless will!

 So said I, and still say the same;
 Still to my Death will say
 Three Gods within this little frame
 Are warring night and day.

 Heaven could not hold them all
 Yet they all are held in me,
 And must be mine till I forget
 My present entity.

 O for the time when in my breast
 Their struggles will be o'er;
 O for the day when I shall rest
 And never suffer more!

15. No coward soul is mine 

 No coward soul is mine,
 No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
 I see heaven's glories shine
 And faith shines equal, arming me from Fear

 O God within my breast
 Almighty, ever-present Deity
 Life that in me has rest
 As I, Undying Life, have power in Thee

 Vain are the thousand creeds that move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
 Worthless as withered weeds
 Or idlest froth amid the boundless main
 To waken doubt in one
 Holding so fast by thine infinity
 So surely anchored on
 The steadfast rock of Immortality

 With wide-embracing love
 Thy spirit animates eternal years
 Pervades and broods above,
 Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears
 Though Earth and Man were gone
 And suns and universes ceased to be
 And Thou wert left alone,
 Every existence would exist in thee
 There is not room for Death
 Nor atom that his might could render void
 Since Thou are Being and Breath,
 And what THOU art may never be destroyed.

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