1. |
James Joyce: XV
03:35
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From dewy dreams, my soul, arise,
From love's deep slumber and from death,
For lo! the treees are full of sighs
Whose leaves the morn admonisheth.
Eastward the gradual dawn prevails
Where softly-burning fires appear,
Making to tremble all those veils
Of grey and golden gossamer.
While sweetly, gently, secretly,
The flowery bells of morn are stirred
And the wise choirs of faery
Begin (innumerous!) to be heard.
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2. |
Ted Hughes:Cadenza
06:46
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The violinist’s shadow vanishes.
The husk of a grasshopper
Sucks a remote cyclone and rises.
The full, bared throat of a woman walking water,
The loaded estuary of the dead.
And I am the cargo
Of a coffin attended by swallows.
And I am the water
Bearing the coffin that will not be silent.
The clouds are full of surgery and collision
But the coffin escapes — a black diamond,
A ruby brimming blood,
An emerald beating its shores,
The sea lifts swallow wings and flings
A summer lake open,
Sips and bewilders its reflection,
Till the whole sky dives shut like a burned land back to its spark —
A bat with a ghost in its mouth
Struck at by lightnings of silence —
Blue with sweat, the violinist
Crashes into the orchestra, which explodes.
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Haim Rachmani - חיים רחמני Petah Tikva, Israel
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