Rose in the park with a white center blood red single rose— the scraping of fallen leaves still leaves your loveliness unshaken
vignettes - flowers
by Stanley Grill (b. 1953)
musical settings of poems by William Carlos Williams for small chorus and viola
1. 10/14  [sung text checked 1 time]
2. The Petunia  [sung text checked 1 time]
Purple! for months unknown but for the barren sky. A purple trumpet fragile as our hopes from the very sand saluting us.
3. A Love Poem  [sung text checked 1 time]
Basic hatred sometimes has a flower pure crystal a white camellia It assumes the shape of love is love to all appearances
4. The Chrysanthemum  [sung text checked 1 time]
how shall we tell the bright petals from the sun in the sky concentrically crowding the branch save that it yields in its modesty to that splendor?
5. Black Eyed Susan  [sung text checked 1 time]
Black eyed susan rich orange round a purple core the white daisy is not enough Crowds are white as farmers who live poorly But you are rich in savagery— Arab Indian dark woman
6. Chicory  [sung text checked 1 time]
Lift your flowers on bitter stems chicory! Lift them up Out of the scorched ground! Bear no foliage But give yourself Wholly to that! Strain under them you bitter stems that no beast eats— and scorn greyness! Into the heat with them: cool! luxuriant! Sky-blue! The earth cracks and is shriveled up; the wind moans piteously; the sky goes out if you should fail.
7. Approach of Winter  [sung text checked 1 time]
The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go or driven like hail stream bitterly out to one side and fall where the salvias, hard carmine -- like no leaf that ever was -- edge the bare garden.
- by William Carlos Williams (1883 - 1963), "Approach of winter", appears in Sour Grapes: a Book of Poems, first published 1921 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
See other settings of this text.Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
8. Two Aspects of April - I  [sung text checked 1 time]
Nothing is more certain than the flower— and best, sometimes, are those that start into blossom directly from the harshness of bare gardens—the crocus breaking through, narcissi heaving a trampled place, and I saw once jonquils, forgotten, buried under a new driveway, covered with broken stone but still unsuppressed, rising still into a graceful flower-head—