The moon's greygolden meshes make All night a veil, The shorelamps in the sleeping lake Laburnum tendrils trail. The sly reeds whisper to the night A name -- her name -- And all my soul is a delight, A swoon of shame.
Three songs
Song Cycle by Donald James Martino (1931 - 2005)
1. Alone  [sung text not yet checked]
Authorship:
- by James Joyce (1882 - 1941), "Alone", written 1916, appears in Pomes Penyeach, no. 10
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Seul", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
2. Tutto è sciolto  [sung text not yet checked]
A birdless heaven, sea dusk, one lone star Piercing the west, As thou, fond heart, love's time, so faint, so far, Rememberest. The clear young eyes' soft look, the candid brow, The fragrant hair, Falling as through the silence falleth now Dusk of the air. Why then, remembering those shy Sweet lures, repine When the dear love she yielded with a sigh Was all but thine?
Authorship:
- by James Joyce (1882 - 1941), "Tutto è sciolto", appears in Pomes Penyeach, no. 5
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Tutto è sciolto", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
3. A memory of the players in a mirror at midnight  [sung text not yet checked]
They mouth love's language. Gnash The thirteen teeth Your lean jaws grin with. Lash Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh. Love's breath in you is stale, worded or sung, As sour as cat's breath, Harsh of tongue. This grey that stares Lies not, stark skin and bone. Leave greasy lips their kissing. None Will choose her what you see to mouth upon. Dire hunger holds his hour. Pluck forth your heart, saltblood, a fruit of tears. Pluck and devour!
Authorship:
- by James Joyce (1882 - 1941), "A memory of the players in a mirror at midnight", written 1917, appears in Pomes Penyeach, no. 11
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Un souvenir des acteurs dans un miroir à minuit", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]