Music by Schubert • With Randall Scarlata, baritoneMorse Recital Hall • Wednesday, October 2, 2013 at 8 pm

Robert Blocker, Dean

Horowitz Piano Series · Boris Berman, Artistic Director

peter frankl

Franz Schubert1797—1828

Drei Klavierstücke, D. 946No. 1 in E-flat minor – Allegro AssaiNo. 2 in E-flat major – AllegrettoNo. 3 in C major – Allegro

brief intermission

Winterreise, D. 911Gute NachtDie WetterfahneGefror’ne TränenErstarrungDer LindenbaumWasserflutAuf dem FlusseRückblickIrrlichtRastFrühlingstraumEinsamkeitDie PostDer greise KopfDie KräheLetzte HoffnungIm DorfeDer stürmische MorgenTäuschungDer WegweiserDas WirtshausMutDie NebensonnenDer Leierman

Randall Scarlata, baritone

Horowitz Piano Series

October 2, 2013 • Morse Recital Hall in Sprague Hall

As a courtesy to the performers and audience, turn off cell phones and pagers.

Please do not leave the hall during selections. Photography or recording of any kind is prohibited.

peter frankl

Artist Profiles

Pianist Peter Frankl made his London debut in 1962 and his New York debut with the Cleve- land Orchestra under George Szell in 1967. Since that time he has performed with many of the world’s finest orchestras, including the Berlin Philharmonic, Israel Philharmonic, Orchestre de Paris, Concertgebouw, all the London orchestras, and the major American orchestras. He has collaborated with such conductors as Abbado, Boulez, Maazel, and Solti. His many chamber music partners have included Kyung Wha Chung, Ralph Kirshbaum, and the Tokyo, Takács, Guarneri, and Fine Arts quartets. Among his recordings are the complete works for piano by Schumann and Debussy, Bartók and Chopin solo albums, a Hungarian anthology, concertos and four-hand works by Mozart, the two Brahms piano concertos, the Brahms violin and clarinet sonatas, Bartók pieces for violin and piano, and the piano quintets of Brahms, Schumann, Dvorák, Martinu, and both Dohnányis. Mr. Frankl was awarded the Officer’s Cross by the Hungarian Republic, and on his seventieth birthday he was given one of the highest civilian awards in Hungary for his lifetime artistic achievement in the world of music.

Hailed for his warm, expressive sound and winning way with the audience, baritone Randall Scarlata enjoys an unusually diverse career. He is equally comfortable in Bach and Handel oratorios, Mozart and Verdi operas, the great song cycles, works from Tin Pan Alley, and the new- est new music. He has appeared as soloist with many of the world’s finest orchestras, and at inter- national music festivals on five continents. Mr. Scarlata has given world premieres of works by Ned Rorem, Lori Laitman, George Crumb, Daron Hagen, Samuel Adler, Mohammed Fairouz, Paul Moravec, Christopher Theofanidis, Wolfram Wagner, and Thea Musgrave. He has won many competitions, including the International Schubert Competition in Vienna (das Schubert Lied), the Joy in Singing Competition, the Brahms Com- petition, the Young Concert Artists Competition, the Naumburg Competition, and the Alice Tully Debut Recital Award. He has recorded for Naxos, Arabesque, Albany, Chandos, CRI, and Gasparo labels. Mr. Scarlata holds degrees from the East- man School and the Juilliard School, and also attended Vienna’s Hochschule für Musik as a Fulbright Scholar. He is on the faculty of the School of Music of West Chester University as well as SUNY Stony Brook, and regularly gives masterclasses in the U.S. and abroad.

Notes on the Program

franz schubertDrei Klavierstücke, D. 946

Were it not for the intervention of a certain admirer of Schubert’s piano music, it is difficult to say whether the Klavierstücke, a significant contribution to the canon from the final few months of its composer’s life, would have ever entered the repertoire. That admirer, in fact, was Johannes Brahms. Like much of Schubert’s music, these works were unknown for many years after the composer’s death. Though written in 1828, they were not published until four decades later, in 1868, with Brahms as then-anonymous editor.

Unknown for decades and still enigmatic, far less is known about these pieces than, for in- stance, the familiar D. 899 and D. 935 sets of Impromptus, and the Moments musicaux, all stylistically similar to the Klavierstücke. The D. 946 pieces were not conceived as a unified set of merely three, and were probably intended to be part of a larger collection. The three were assembled as such by Brahms, and in this way, the later composer has left his own significant mark on Schubert’s opus. Both composers were among the most important composers of “piano miniatures,” or character pieces for the solo instrument. Unlike, for instance, a sonata, there is no conventional set of guidelines for such com- positions, leaving the composers the freedom to create, in a brief temporal span, a unique sound world. The inherent flexibility of the brief piano miniature, of which Schubert was among the first composers, provided room for experimentation, and the Klavierstücke are products from the laboratory of a genius. The first piano piece, a five-part rondo in E-flat minor, meanders fluidly and often unexpectedly from minor to major tonal areas, creating an unsettled sense of ambiguity. This flexibility of modality is a trademark of Schubert’s instrumental

music, and reflects his treatment of texts in his beloved songs, in which the “rules” of tonal composition were frequently bent in order to convey a particular poetic idea. The more gentle, andante episodes, the first of which is in the surprising submediant key of B major, differ greatly from the nervous refrain that opens the movement and returns twice, with its pul- sating, insistant undercurrent of running eighth notes. One source of puzzlement involves the second contrasting episode in the piece — heard after the first return of the opening refrain — that was completely crossed out in Schubert’s original manuscript of this movement. This A-flat major section was restored by Brahms in his published edition, and was accepted as fact for much of the work’s performance history. Indeed, we may never know Schubert’s true intention, or why this section was seemingly erased. Perhaps Brahms, that great admirer, thought so highly of Schubert’s music that he sought to preserve even that which was meant to be discarded. The piece ends with the final refrain having been transformed into the major mode, leading to a confident coda. The second piece, another five-part rondo, is in many ways a fitting foil to the first. Gentle and berceuse-like, the three occurrences of its E-flat major refrain are perforated by two darker and more volatile episodes, always returning to the tranquil theme of the refrain. A fittingly exuberant close to the set, the third piece is a dance with exotic traces of the Hungarian and Bohemian styles in its syncopated rhythmic gestures and capricious nature, which were quite in vogue in Schubert’s day. The extroverted dance bookends a far more introspective trio section, and, like the previous pieces in the Drei Klavierstücke, is a study in contrast, and in this sense a fitting reflection of its composer.

-Patrick Jankowski

Notes on the Program

Winterreise

In early 1827, Schubert discovered twelve poems by Wilhelm Müller in a friend’s library. Müller’s folksong style, previously utilized by Schubert in his 1823 song-cycle Die schöne Müllerin, again proved to be an inspiration. Schubert was pre- occupied with the project for the first few months of the year and his concentration is graphically demonstrated by the thorough revision and re- touching evident in the manuscript. The songs “Gute Nacht” and “Rückblick” were so extensively worked over that fresh copies needed to be made. Finally, after “Finis” was written and the music sent off to the publisher, Schubert learned that a complete text of Die Winterreise had been published with twelve additional poems scattered throughout. If he had taken the time to realize the cycle in Müller’s final order, it would have delayed the receipt of his much-needed fee. So, the twelfth song, originally rounding off the cycle in the same D minor key of the beginning, was transposed to B minor. The additional twelve poems, headed “Continuation of Winterreise,” were appended more or less in the order they had been inserted by Müller into his final version.

That we can listen to these songs in a sequence not intended by the poet points to the very nature of the cycle. Winterreise is an internal drama, essentially with no plot. The fundamental tragedy has taken place before the cycle opens. A girl, who our protagonist believed reciprocated his love, chose a wealthier suitor. Now our hero wanders from place to place and longs for an end. Despite the great variety of emotions, ranging from weariness and reflection to passion and defiance, there is no change of circumstance. From the very opening in “Gute Nacht,” somber strides of the wanderer’s footsteps are introduced — the tempo marking in the autograph score is Mäßig, ingehrnder Bewgung (Moderato, in walking movement) — and they seldom waver

throughout the entire cycle. This perpetual lament was truly unprecedented. Of the twenty-four lieder, sixteen are set in a minor key. However, at the words “Will dich im Traum nicht stören” (I will not disturb your dreams), the last verse of the first song exquisitely demonstrates Schubert’s ability to make the major mode sound even more poignant than the minor. Significantly, the song reverts to the original minor mode at its end.

As Part II progresses the main character becomes more remote and isolated, but it is only in the ultimate song that another character is finally introduced. This “last station on the journey of sorrow,” as Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau referred to it, is one of Schubert’s strangest and most unique creations. It sounds so incredibly simple — just bagpipe-like fifths in the left hand, a repeated motif in the right hand, and the monotonous declamation of the voice — but it has a chilling effect on the listener. In this song, a characterization of a man who is no longer is aware of his unfortunate circumstances, the protagonist meets an old organ grinder. He sings, “Strange old man, shall I go with you? Will you grind your hurdy-gurdy to my songs?” Through total alienation from society, the destiny of this consummate Romantic character is made complete.

A friend of Schubert’s, Josef von Spaun, recorded in his memoirs what would be the very first time Schubert’s greatest song cycle was performed:

“‘Come to Schober’s today, I will sing you a cycle of awe-inspiring songs. I am eager to know what you will say about them. They have affected me more than has been the case with any other songs.’ So, in a voice wrought with emotion, he sang the whole of the Winterreise through to us. We were quite dumbfounded by the gloomy mood of these songs and Schober said he had only liked one song, “Der Lindenbaum.” To

Notes on the Program

which Schubert said, ‘I like these songs more than all the others, and you will get to like them too.’

A year later, the very last work Schubert per- formed (while actually on his deathbed) was to correct proofs of his Winterreise. Schubert’s confidence in the power of the work was soon confirmed as his friends and the world came to view it as a landmark in the history of song.”

Texts & Translations

WinterreiseText by Wilhelm MüllerTranslations by Richard Cross

1. Gute Nacht

Fremd bin ich eingezogen,fremd zieh’ ich wieder ausDer Mai war mir gewogenmit manchem Blumenstrauß

Das Mädchen sprach von Liebedie Mutter gar von Eh’Nun ist die Welt so trübeder Weg gehüllt in Schnee

Ich kann zu meiner ReisenNicht wählen mit der Zeit,Muß selbst den Weg mir weisenIn dieser Dunkelheit.

Es zieht ein MondenschattenAls mein Gefährte mit,Und auf den weißen MattenSuch’ ich des Wildes Tritt.

Was soll ich länger weilen, daß man mich trieb hinaus?Laß irre Hunde heulenvor ihres Herren Haus!

Die Liebe liebt das WandernGott hatt sie so gemacht--Von einem zu dem andern,Gott hatt sie so gemacht.

Die Liebe liebt das Wandern fein Liebchen, gute NachtVon einem zu dem andern--fein Liebchen, gute Nacht!

1. Good Night

As a stranger I cameAs a stranger I goMay offered me to me Many beautiful flowers

The girl talked of loveBut the mother talked of marriageAnd now the world is darkand my path is covered in snow

I cannot choose the timeTo begin my journey,Must find my own wayIn this darkness.

A shadow of the moon travelsWith me as my companion,And upon the white fieldsI seek the deer’s track.

Why should I stay here longerUntil they drive me away?Let the mad dogs howlBefore her father’s house

Love wants to wanderGod made it soFrom one to the otherGod made it so.

Love wants to wander,Sweetheart, Good NightFrom one to the other--Sweetheart, Good Night

Will dich im Traum nicht stören,wär schad’ um deine Ruh’,Sollst meinen Tritt nicht hören--sacht, sacht die Türe zu!

Schreib im Vorübergehen,Ans Tor dir: gute Nacht,Damit du mögest sehen,An dich hab’ ich gedacht.

2. Die Wetterfahne

Der Wind spielt mit der WetterfahneAuf meines schönen Liebchens Haus.Da dacht’ ich schon in meinem Wahne,Sie pfiff den armen Flüchtling aus.

Er hätt’ es eher bemerken sollendes Hauses aufgestecktes Schild,So hätt’ er nimmer suchen wollenIm Haus ein treues Frauenbild.

Der Wind spielt drinnen mit den Herzen,wie auf dem Dach, nur nicht so laut.Was fragen sie nach meinen Schmerzen?Ihr Kind ist eine reiche Braut.

3. Gefrorne Tränen

Gefrorne Tropfen fallenVon meinen Wangen ab Ob es mir denn entgangen,Daß ich geweinet hab’

Ei, Tränen, meine TränenUnd seid ihr gar so lauDaß ihr erstarrt zu Eise,Wie kühler Morgentau?

Und dringt doch aus der QuelleDer Brust so glühend heißAls wolltet ihr zerschmelzen Des ganzen Winters Eis.

I’ll not disturb your dreamsIt would be a shame to disturb your rest,You will not hear my footsteps--Quietly, quietly I’ll close the door!

I will write, as I go by,Upon the gate for you, Good Night,So that you will seeThat I thought about you.

2. The Weathervane

The wind plays with the weathervaneOn my pretty darling’s house.I thought, in my madness,It was mocking the poor refugee.

He should have noticed sooner,The emblem on the house.He never would have thought to findA faithful girl within.

The wind plays inside with hearts,Just like on the roof, but not so loud.What do they care about my pain?Their child is now a rich bride.

3. Frozen Tears

Frozen droplets are fallingfrom my cheeksFor I didn’t noticeThat I have been weeping

Oh, tears, my tearsAre you really just luke warmThat you can freeze to iceLike the morning dew

And you swell from the fount of my breast, so burning hot, As if you would melt All of winter’s ice.

Texts & Translations

4. Erstarrung

Ich such’ im Schnee vergebensNach ihrer Tritte Spur,Wo sie an meinem ArmeDurchstrich die grüne Flur,

Ich will den Boden küssen,Durchdringen Eis und SchneeMit meinen heißen Tränen,Bis ich die Erde seh’.

Wo find’ ich eine Blüte,Wo find’ ich grünes Gras?Die Blumen sind erstorben, Der Rasen sieht so blaß.

Soll denn kein AngedenkenIch nehmen mit von hier?Wenn meine Schmerzen schweigen,Wer sagt mir dann von ihr?

Mein Herz ist wie erstorben,kalt starrt ihr Bild darin:schmilzt je das Herz mir wieder,fließt auch ihr Bild dahin.

5. Der Lindenbaum

Am Brunnen vor dem ToreDa steht ein Lindenbaum:Ich träumt in seinem SchattenSo manchen süßen Traum

Ich schnitt in seine Rinde So manches liebe WortEs zog in Freud’ und LeideZu ihm mich immerfort

Ich mußt’ auch heute wandern Vorbei in tiefer Nacht,Da hab’ ich noch im DunkelDie Augen zugemacht.

4. Numbness

I search in vain in the snowFor the sign of her footstepsWhere she, on my armWalked in the green meadow.

I want to kiss the ground,Press through the ice and snow,With my hot tearsTill I see the earth.

Where will I find a blossomWhere will I find green grass?The flowers all have died,The grass all looks so pale.

Shall I have no keepsakeTo take with me from here?When my pain is silent,Who then will speak of her?

My heart seems deadAnd her image frozen withinIf ever my heart should thaw,Her image would flow away.

5. The Lyme Tree (Linden)

At the fountain by the gateThere stands a Linden tree:I dreamed in its shadeSo many sweet dreams.

I carved in its barkSo many loving wordsI am drawn in joy and sadness,Always to return.

Today I had to pass it byIn the darkest night,And even in the darknessI closed my eyes.

Texts & Translations

Und seine Zweige rauschten,Als riefen sie mir zu:Komm her zu mir Geselle,Hier find’st du deine Ruh’!

Die kalten Winde bliesenMir grad ins Angesicht,Der Hut flog mir vom Kopfe,Ich wendete mich nicht.

Nun bin ich manche StundeEntfernt von jenem Ort,Und immer hör’ ich’s rauschen:Du fändest Ruhe dort!

6. Wasserflut

Manche Trän’ aus meinen AugenIst gefallen in den Schnee;Seine kalten Flocken saugenDurstig ein das heiße Weh.

Wenn die Gräser sprossen wollen,Weht daher ein lauer Wind,Und das Eis zerspringt in SchollenUnd der weiche Schnee zerrinnt.

Schnee, du weißt von meinem Sehnen;Sag’, wohin doch geht dein Lauf?Folge nach nur meinen Tränen,Nimmt dich bald das Bächlein auf,

Wirst mit ihm die Stadt durchziehen,Munt’re Straßen ein und aus:Fühlst du meine Tränen glühen,Da ist meiner Liebsten Haus.

And its branches rustledAs if they called to me:Come to me, young fellow,Here you will find peace!

The cold winds blewStraight into my faceMy hat flew from my head,But I never turned.

Now I am many hoursAway from that place,And still I hear the whisper:You would have found peace there!

6. Flood

Some tears from my eyeshave fallen in the snow;The cold snowflakes drink,Thirstily the hot sorrow.

When it is time for the grass to sproutThe warm wind will blowAnd the ice will break in chipsAnd the soft snow will disolve.

Snow, you know about my longing;Tell me, where your way will lead.Follow the way with my tears, And the brook will soon take you along.

You will flow through the town,Through the streets back and forth:And when you feel my tears burning,Then you are at my sweetheart’s house.

Texts & Translations

7. Auf dem Flusse

Der du so lustig rauschtestDu heller, wilder Fluß,Wie still bist du geworden,Gibst keinen Scheidegruß.

Mit harter, starrer RindeHast du dich überdeckt,Liegst kalt und unbeweglichIm Sande ausgestreckt.

In deine Decke grab’ ichMit einem spitzen SteinDen Namen meiner Liebsten Und Stund’ und Tag hinein:

Den Tag des ersten Grußes,Den Tag, an dem ich ging;Um Nam’ und Zahlen windetSich ein zerbroch’ner Ring.

Mein Herz, in diesem BacheErkennst du nun dein Bild?Ob’s unter seiner RindeWohl auch so reißend schwillt?

8. Rückblick

Es brennt mir unter beiden SohlenTret’ ich auch schon auf Eis und SchneeIch möcht’ nicht wieder Atem holen,Bis ich nicht mehr die Türme seh’

Hab’ mich an jeden Stein gestoßenSo eilt’ ich zu der Stadt hinaus;Die Krähen warfen Bäll’ und SchloßenAuf meinen Hut von jedem Haus,

Wie anders hast du mich empfangenDu Stadt der Unbeständigkeit!An deinen blanken Fenstern sangenDie Lerch’ und Nachtigall im Streit

7. On the River

You that so joyfully murmured,You clear and wild stream,How quiet you’ve become,You’ve no “farewell” for me.

With hard and frozen crust,You’ve covered over yourself,You lie cold and unmoving,Stretched out upon the sand.

In your covering I carve,With a pointed stone,The name of my sweetheartAnd the hour and day:

The day of our first meetingThe day on which I left;Around the name and numbersWinds a broken ring.

My heart, in this brookCan you not recognize your image?Even though it’s under the iceThe torn heart, raging flows?

8. A Look Back

It is burning beneath both my feet,Even though I walk on ice and snow;I don’t want to stop for breath,Until the towers are out of sight.

I have stumbled on every stoneIn my haste to escape the townThe ravens threw dirt and sleetUpon my hat from every house.

How differently you received meOh, you fickle town!Before every shining window dueledThe lark and nightingale in song

Texts & Translations

Die runden Lindenbäume blühten,Die klaren Rinnen rauschten hell,Und ach, zwei Mädchenaugen glühtenDa war’s gescheh’n um dich, Gesell!

Kommt mir der Tag in die Gedanken, Möcht’ ich noch eimal rückwärts sehn,Möcht’ ich zurücke wieder wanken,Vor ihrem Hause stille steh’n.

9. Irrlicht

In die tiefsten FelsengründeLockte mich ein Irrlicht hinWie ich einen Ausgang finde,Liegt nicht schwer mir in dem Sinn

Bin gewohnt das Irregehen,’s führt ja jeder Weg zum ZielUns’re Freuden, uns’re LeidenAlles eines Irrlichts Spiel!

Durch des Bergstroms trock’ne RinnenWind’ ich ruhig mich hinabJeder Strom wird’s Meer gewinnen,Jedes Leiden auch sein Grab.

10. Rast

Nun merk’ ich erst, wie müd’ ich bin,Da ich zur Ruh’ mich lege;Das Wandern hielt mich munter hinAuf unwirtbarem Wege

Die Füße frugen nicht nach Rast,Es war zu kalt zum Stehen,Der Rücken fühlte keine Last,Der Sturm half fort mich wehen.

The round Linden trees blossomedThe clear streams murmured brightly,And, oh, two maiden’s eyes burnedAnd then you were done for, my boy!

When I think about that day,I want to, once again, look back;I want to stagger back again,And stand quietly before her house.

9. Will o’ the Wisp

Into the deepest mountain ravineA Will o’ the Wisp has guided me.How I will find my way out,Is no problem for me.

I am used to aimless wandering,Every path leads to the goal.All our joys, all our suffering,All is just Will o’ the Wisp’s game!

Through the mountain streams dry courseI wend my way quietly down.Every stream will reach the sea,And each sorrow will reach the grave.

10. Rest

Just now, I notice how weary I am,Now that I lie down to rest;Walking kept me always alertOn the unwelcoming road.

My feet did not wish to rest,It was too cold to stand still,My back felt no burden,The storm helped push me along.

Texts & Translations

In eines Köhlers engem HausHab’ Obdach ich gefunden;Doch meine Glieder ruh’n nicht aus:So brennen ihre Wunden.

Auch du, mein Herz, im Kampf und SturmSo wild und so verwegen,Fühlst in der Still’ erst deinen WurmMit heißem Stich sich regen.

11. Frühlingstraum

Ich träumte von bunten BlumenSo wie sie wohl blühen im Mai,Ich träumte von grünen Wiesen,Von lustgigem Vogelgeschrei.

Und als die Hähen krähten,Da ward mein Auge wach;Da war es kalt und finster,Es schrien die Raben vom Dach.

Doch and den FensterscheibenWer malte die Blätter da?Ihr lacht wohl über den Träumer,Der Blumen im Winter sah?

Ich träumte von Lieb’ um Liebe,Von einer schönen Maid,Von Herzen und von KüssenVon Wonne und Seligkeit.

Und als die Hähne krähten,Da ward mein Herze wach;Nun sitz’ ich hier alleineUnd denke dem Traume nach.

Die Augen schließ’ ich wieder,Noch schlägt das Herz so warm.Wann grünt ihr Blätter am Fenster?Wann halt’ ich dich, Liebchen im Arm?

In the tiny house of a charcoal-maker,I found shelterYet my body cannot rest;My wounds burn so.

You too, my heart, in battle and stormSo wild and unafraid,You feel now, in the stillness, the wormMoving burning within.

11. Dream of Spring

I dreamed of colored flowersJust as they blossom in May,I dreamed of green meadows,And of joyous songs of birds.

And when the roosters crowed,And I opened my eyes,It was still cold and dark,The ravens called from the roof.

But there on the window-pane;Who painted the leaves there?You laugh about the dreamerWho saw flowers in winter

I dreamed of Love one for the other,Of a beautiful young girl;Of hugging and kissing;Of joy and happiness.

And when the roosters crowedMy heart awakenedNow I sit here aloneAnd think about my dream

I close my eyes once more,My heart still beats so fast.When will the leaves at the window turn green?When will I hold my sweetheart in my arms?

Texts & Translations

12. Einsamkeit

Wie eine trübe WolkeDurch heit’re Lüfte geht,Wann in der Tanne WipfelEin mattes Lüftchen weht.

So zieh ich meine StraßeDahin mit trägem Fuß,Durch helles, frohes Leben,Einsam und ohne Gruß.

Ach, daß die Luft so ruhig!Ach, daß die Welt so licht!Als noch die Stürme tobten,War ich so elend nicht.

13. Die Post

Von der Straße her ein Posthorn klingt.Was hat es, daß es so hoch aufspringt, Mein Herz?

Die Post bringt keinen Brief für dich:Was drängst du denn so wunderlich, Mein Herz?

Nun, ja, die Post kommt aus der Stadt,Wo ich ein liebes Liebchen hatt’, Mein Herz?

Willst wohl einmal hinüberseh’n,Und fragen, wie es dort mag geh’n, Mein Herz?

14. Der greise Kopf

Der Reif hatt’ einen weißen ScheinMir übers Haar gestreuet.Da meint’ ich schon ein Greis zu sein,Und hab’ mich sehr gefreuet.

12. Loneliness

Like a dark cloudPassing through the clear air,When the forest tree-topsWave in a weary breeze

Thus, I trudge upon my way,Forward with heavy feet;Through happy life about me,Alone and with no one to greet me.

Oh, how quiet is the air!Oh, how bright the world!While the storm still raged,I was not so miserable.

13. The Post

From the highway a mail horn sounds.Why causes it to leap so high, My heart?

The post brings no letter for you,Why are you beating so hard, My heart?

Of course, the mail comes from the town,Where my beloved sweetheart lived, My heart?

Would you like to have a look over there,And ask, how things are going there, My heart?

14. The Grizzled Head

The frost has strewn a white glowOver my hair.I thought that I had become an old man,And I rejoiced.

Texts & Translations

Doch bald ist er hinweggetaut,Hab’ wieder schwarze Haare,Daß mir’s vor meiner Jugend graut --Wie weit noch bis zur Bahre!

Vom Abendrot zum MorgenlichtWard mancher Kopf zum Greise.Wer glaubt’s? Und meiner ward es nichtAuf dieser ganzen Reise!

15. Die Krähe

Eine Krähe war mit mirAus der Stadt gezogen,Ist bis heute für und für Um mein Haupt geflogen.

Krähe, wunderliches Tier,Willst mich nicht verlassen?Meinst wohl bald als Beute hierMeinen Leib zu fassen?

Nun, es wird nicht weit mehr geh’nAn dem Wanderstabe.Krähe, laß mich endlich seh’nTreue bis zum Grabe!

16. Letzte Hoffnung

Hier und da ist an den BäumenNoch ein buntes Blatt zu seh’nUnd ich bleibe vor den BäumenOftmals in Gedanken steh’n.

Schaue nach dem einen Blatte,Hänge meine Hoffnung dran;Spielt der Wind mit meinem Blatte,Zitt’r’ ich, was ich zittern kann.

But soon it melted away,I have black hair again,I shudder at my own youth --How far it is yet to the grave!

Between twilight and dawnMany heads have turned gray.Who can believe it? Mine has not done soOn this entire journey!

15. The Crow

A raven was with meAs I left the town,And has still, until this day, Flown round about my head.

Raven, wondrous creature,Can you not leave me?Do you think that, as a prize,You will feast upon my dead body?

Now, I can go no furtherWith my walking staff.Raven, remain with me to the end,Faithful to my grave.

16. Last Hope

Here and there, on the treesOne can still see a colored leaf.And I stand sometimes before the trees,With a thought.

I look at just one leaf,And hang all my hopes on it;If the wind plays with my leaf,I tremble, Oh, how I tremble.

Texts & Translations

Ach, und fällt das Blatt zu Boden,Fällt mit ihm die Hoffnung ab.Fall’ ich selber mit zu Boden,Wein’ auf meiner Hoffnung Grab.

17. Im Dorfe

Es bellen die Hunde, es rasseln die Ketten.Die Menschen schnarchen in ihren Betten,Träumen sich manches, was sie nicht habenTun sich im Guten und Argen erlaben:

Und morgen früh ist alles zerflossen --Je nun, sie haben ihr Teil genossen,Und hoffen, was sie noch übrig ließen,Doch wieder zu finden auf ihren Kissen.

Bellt mich nur fort, ihr wachen Hunde,Laßt mich nicht ruh’n in der Schlummerstunde!Ich bin zu Ende mit allen Träumen --Was will ich unter den Schläfern säumen?

18. Der Stürmische Morgen

Wie hat der Sturm zerrissenDes Himmels graues KleidDie Wolkenfetzen flatternUmher in matten Streit.

Und rote FeuerflammenZieh’n zwischen ihnen hinDas nenn’ ich einen MorgenSo recht nach meinem Sinn!

Mein Herz sieht an dem HimmelGemalt sein eig’nes BildEs ist nichts als der Winter, Der Winter kalt und wild!

Oh, if my leaf then falls to earth,All my hope falls with it.I myself fall with it to earth,To weep upon my hope’s grave.

17. In the Village

The dogs are barking, the chains are rattling.The people are snoring in their beds,Dreaming of all the things that they wantImproving their wealth and their troubles:

And in the morning it’s all flown away--Oh well, they have enjoyed their portion,And hope to find whatever is missingon their pillows.

So bark me away, you watchful dogs.Don’t let me rest in this time of slumber!I am finished with all dreams--What can I gain among these sleepers?

18. The Stormy Morning

Oh, how the storm has tornThe heaven’s grey gownThe shreds of clouds flutterAbout in heavy turmoil

And red flames of fireShoot forth between themThat, I call a morningJust to my liking!

My heart sees in the heavensThe picture of its own imageIt’s nothing but the winterThe winter cold and wild!

Texts & Translations

19. Täuschung

Ein Licht tanzt freundlich vor mir her,Ich folg’ ihm nach die Kreuz und QuerIch folg’ ihm gern und seh’s ihm anDaß es verlockt den Wandersmann

Ach! Wer wie ich so elend ist,Gibt gern sich hin der bunten List,Die hinter Eis und Nacht und Graus Ihm weist ein helles, warmes Haus

Und eine liebe Seele drin--Nur Täuschung ist für mich Gewinn!

20. Der Wegweiser

Was vermeid’ ich denn die Wege,Wo die ander’n Wand’rer geh’n,Suche mir versteckte StegeDurch verschneite Felsenhöh’n?

Habe ja doch nichts begangen, Daß ich Menschen sollte scheu’n,Welch ein törichtes Verlangen Treibt mich in die Wüstenei’n?

Weiser stehen auf den Wegen,Weisen auf die Städte zu,Und ich wand’re sonder Maßen,Ohne Ruh’, und suche Ruh’.

Einen Weiser seh’ ich stehenUnverrückt vor meinem Blick:Eine Straße muß ich gehen,Die noch keiner ging zurück.

19. Deception

A friendly light dances there before me,I follow it back and forthI follow willingly, though I can seeThat it leads the wanderer astray

Oh, anyone as miserable as I,Falls willingly for the colorful trick,That, beyond the ice and night and horrorHe sees a bright, warm house

And a loving soul within—,Even deceit is a prize for me.

20. The Signpost

Why do I avoid the ways,Where the other travelers walkI search for hidden pathsThrough the snowcapped rocky heights

I haven’t done anything wrong,That I should avoid other people,What stupid desireDrives me into the wilderness?

Signs are standing by the paths,They point toward the townsAnd I stride on without purpose,Restless and seeking rest.

I see a signpost standingUnhidden from my view:I must travel a path,From which no one has ever returned.

Texts & Translations

21. Das Wirtshaus

Auf einem Totenacker Hab’ ich mein Weg gebrachtAllhier will ich einkehren, Hab’ ich bei mir gedacht,

Ihr grünen TotenkränzeKönnt wohl die Zeichen seinDie müde Wand’rer ladenIns kühle Wirtshaus ein.

Sind denn in diesem HauseDie Kammern all’ besetzt?Bin matt zum Niedersinken,Bin tödlich schwer verletzt

O unbarmherz’ge Schenke,Doch weisest du mich ab?Nun weiter denn, nur weiterMein treuer Wanderstab.

22. Mut

Fliegt der Schnee mir ins Gesicht,Schuttl’ ich ihn herunter,Wenn mein Herz im Busen sprichtSing’ ich hell und munter;

Höre nicht, was es mir sagt,Habe keine Ohren,Fühle nicht, was es mir klagt,Klagen ist für Toren

Lustig in die Welt hineinGegen Wind und Wetter!Will kein Gott auf Erden sein,Sind wir selber Götter!

21. The Inn

To a graveyardI have found my wayRight here, I can stop a whileI thought to myself.

You green funeral wreaths,Perhaps you are the signThat invite the weary wandererInto the cool inn.

But, in this inn,Are all the rooms occupied?I am exhausted and need to rest,I am fatally wounded.

Oh, pitiless inn,Would you send me away?Then, onward now, yes, onward,My faithful walking stick.

22. Courage

When the snow flies in my faceI just shake it offWhen my heart speaks in my breastI sing loud and joyfully

I don’t hear what it says to meI have no earsI don’t feel what complaints it has,Complaining is for fools.

Happy into the worldInto the rain and weather!If no God wants to be on earth,Then we’ll all be gods!

Texts & Translations

23. Die Nebensonnen

Drei Sonnen sah ich am Himmel steh’n,Hab’ lang und fest sie angeseh’n;Und sie auch standen da so stier,Als wollten sie nicht weg von mir.

Ach, meine Sonnen seid ihr nicht!Schaut Andern doch ins Angesicht!Ja, neulich hatt’ ich auch wohl drei;Nun, sind hinab die besten zwei

Ging nur die dritt’ erst hinterdrein!Im Dunkeln wird mir wohler sein.

24. Der Leiermann

Drüben hinterm Dorfe steht ein Leiermann,Und mit starren Fingern dreht er, was er kann.Barfuß auf dem Eise wankt er hin und her,Und sein kleiner Teller bleibt ihm immer leer,

Keiner mag ihn hören, keiner sieht ihn an.Und die Hunde knurren um den alten MannUnd er läßt es gehen alles, wie es will,Dreht, und seine Leier steht ihm nimmer still,

Wunderlicher Alter, soll ich mit dir geh’n?Willst zu meinen Liedern deine Leier dreh’n?

23. The Parahelions

Three suns, I saw in heaven,I stared at them long and hard,And they, too, stood stiff and still,As if they would not leave my side.

Oh, you are not my suns.Go and stare at someone else.Yes, I had three suns, once,Now the best two are gone.

If only they other one would go as well,In the dark I will feel much better.

24. The Organ-Grinder

Over, behind the village stands an organ-grinderAnd with frozen fingers, he turns the handle.Barefoot on the ice, he wobbles back and forth,And his little dish, remains forever empty

No one wants to hear him, no one looks at him.And the dogs growl about the old man,And he lets happen what will,Turns the handle, and his instrument is never quiet.

Wondrous old man, should I go with you?Will you play the music to accompany my poems?

Texts & Translations

P.O. Box 208246, New Haven, CT · 203 432-4158 music.yale.edu

Robert Blocker, Dean

Homegrown on Common Ground

october 4

Morse Recital Hall | Friday | 7 pm Ellington Jazz Series

Featuring jazz, blues, and art songs from the James Weldon Johnson collection housed at Yale’s Beinecke Library. In celebration of the

Beinecke’s 50th anniversary.Tickets start at $12 • Students $6

Farewell to the Good Wine

october 6

Dwight Chapel | Sunday | 8 pm Institute of Sacred Music • Faculty Artist Series

Courtly Love and Real Life in Medieval French Song. Featuring James Taylor,

Judith Malafronte, Robert Mealy, Drew Minter, and Mark Rimple.

Free Admission

Takács String Quartet

october 15

Morse Recital Hall | Tuesday | 8 pm Oneppo Chamber Music Series

Beethoven: String Quartet in C minor, Op. 18, No. 4; Janácek: String Quartet No. 2, “Intimate Letters”; Smetana: String

Quartet No. 1, “From My Life”Tickets start at $30 • Students $12

Robert Blocker, piano

october 23

Morse Recital Hall | Wednesday | 8 pm Horowitz Piano Series

Music by Mozart, Schubert, Brahms, and more.

Tickets start at $12 • Students $6

Concert Programs & Box Office: Krista Johnson, Carol JacksonCommunications: Dana Astmann, Monica Ong Reed, Austin Kase

Operations: Tara Deming, Chris MelilloPiano Curators: Brian Daley, William Harold

Recording Studio: Eugene Kimball

WSHU 91.1fm is the media sponsor of the Horowitz Piano Series at the Yale School of Music

Upcoming Events