Sunday, November 15, 2009

Two Pieces by the "Hot shot" Choral Composer Eric Whitacre

The evening hangs beneath the moon
A silver thread on darkened dune
With closing eyes and resting head
I know that sleep is coming soon

Upon my pillow, safe in bed
A thousand pictures fill my head
I cannot sleep my minds a flight
And yet my limbs seem made of lead

If there are noises in the night
A frighting shadow, flickering light
Then I surrender unto sleep

Where clouds of dreams give second sight

What dreams may come both dark and deep

Of flying wings and soaring leap

As I surrender unto sleep
As I surrender unto sleep

The rain ...
Eyes of shadow-water
eyes of well-water
eyes of dream-water.
Blue suns, green whirlwinds,
birdbeaks of light pecking open
pomegranate stars.
But tell me, burnt earth,
is there no water?
Only blood, only dust,
only naked footsteps on the thorns?

The rain awakens ...
We must sleep with open eyes,
(...) we must dream aloud,
we must sing till the song
puts forth roots,
trunk, branches, birds, stars,
we must find the lost word,
and remember
what the blood, the tides,
the earth, and the body say,
and return to the point of departure...

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