Hey all!
My sister, Cheyanne, formerly BrowneyedGirl17 on Xanga, has been training to swim the English Channel in August to help raise money for a cancer center. She was interviewed on the radio today; here’s a link!
http://onlinemedia.iowapublicradio.org:8010/documents/news_stories/2646.mp3
Here’s her website:
Go give her money!!!!!!!!
As you are all aware, I recently performed “Carmina Burana” with the local symphony orchestra and chorus. If any of you have performed, listened to or otherwise have familiarized yourself with the work you also likely noticed that some of the lyrics are a bit…hmm…scandalous!
But, hey, it was the Middle Ages right?
One of the traditions in the chorus is that when they are working on “Carmina Burana” members are encouraged to write limericks for the delight of all. Well, you know me. I like to write poems when I can! Also being a Jesuit means I try and do everything ad majorem dei gloriam: for the greater glory of God. So I didn’t stop at one limerick, oh no, but I decided to write some manner of poem for each portion of “Carmina Burana!” Below are the English translations of some of the pieces along with my accompanying poems. Enjoy!
III. Veris Laeta Facies
The happy face of Spring comes to the world. The army of Winter, conquered, is now put to flight. In gay clothes Flora rules, and she is praised by the sweet sound of the woods.
Stretched out in the lap of Flora Phoebus in his new way laughs – she is now covered with these gay flowers. Zephyrus goes blowing the scent of nectar. In competition for the prize let us run in the race of love.
Sweet Philomela accompanies her song with the lyre. The fields, now bright, smile with gay flowers. A flock of birds hop through the pleasant places of the wood. A dancing band of girls now brings a thousand joys.
“Spring” (a sonnet)
Winter’s desire for fair Spring sets aflame
the sun anew, melting…ah! A cool breath
on her nape, shiv’ring not a blossom’s mane;
again he dies a spurnéd suitor’s death.
Unmourned he fades and she, expectant bride
festoons the Lord of Summer’s verdant way
with scattered golden brooches dan-de-line,
her sweet-honeyed heart a rose, zephyr-swayed.
And lo her lover soon draws nigh to wed
this resplendent maiden, all garland-gowned.
Alas, ere long her petals all are shed,
her wedding garment gay all castéd down
‘round their feet, and soon Summer’s fruit is born,
Spring’s laureled head now regal, sun-adorned.
V. Ecce Gratum
Behold, the welcome and desirable Spring brings back joys. The brightly coloured meadow is in flower. The sun brightens everything. Now let sorrows depart! Summer returns, now the rage of Winter retires.
Now hail, snow and the rest turn to water and flow away. Winter flees and already Spring sucks at the breasts of Summer. He bears an unhappy heart who neither lives nor plays under Summer’s right hand.
They who strive to enjoy the reward of Cupid rejoice and take pleasure in honey sweetness. Let us be at the command of the Cyprian (Venus), glorying and rejoicing to be the equals of Paris.
“Summertime”
Daisy-dappled fields of green
the verdant vesture of ripened Spring,
hay-haired, hot and happy sheen
‘pon heath and meadow glistening.
Winter bleeds dead at but her hush,
the tree once bare abloom, a rising crest
of flowery-foam, perfumed and lush,
all life full-suckled at her breast.
‘neath the rustling tambourines
of leaves aloft in hands of trees
Cupid hunts a heart, arrow keen,
the aim of which man never flees.
VII. Chramer, Gip Die Varwe Mir
Merchant, give me the colour to redden my cheeks so that I may make young men love me whether they wish it or not. Look at me young men! Let me please you!
Give your love, virtuous men, to lovely women! Love gives you high spirits and lets you shine in high honour. Look at me young men! Let me please you!
O World, I wish you well as you are so rich in pleasures. I will surely always be your servant on account of your bounty. Look at me young men! Let me please you!
“Rosie the Riveting”
Red was the shade of her dress,
gold was her promise and tress,
green was the price
of this gray vice
and black, oh God, was the mess.
IX. Were Diu Werlt Alle Min
If the world were all mine from the sea up to the Rhine, this I would willingly forego to have the queen of England lie in my arms.
“Her Majesty”
An Irish sonnet for Her Majesty?
It seems to me a travesty
for though she a goodly lady be
it’s a bit ironic historically.
However I digress
so despite my distress
I’ll write the damnable limerick
and hope she gets a royal kick.
Ahem.
Were I of the world its king
England’s Queen’d wear my ring.
But I will wait
for lovely Kate
before go I a-marrying!
XI. Olim Lacus Colueram
Once I had dwelt on lakes, once I had been beautiful, when I was a swan. Poor wretch! Now black and well roasted!
The cook turns me back and forth; I am roasted to a turn on my pyre; now the waiter serves me. Poor wretch! Now black and well roasted!
Now I lie on the dish, and I cannot fly; I see the gnashing teeth. Poor wretch! Now black and well roasted!
“The Other Other White Meat”
Ah! How beautiful I looked,
graceful, slender neck all crooked!
Forgot did I
from man to fly
now, alas! My goose is cooked!
XIII. In Taberna Quando Sumus
Uhh…this one is super long so you can go here to read the translation.
“The Board of the Drinks” (bonus points to my fellow nerds who know what I’m lampooning!)
Three drinks for the living, doomed to die,
seven for the scoundrel-thieves on the lam,
nine for the preacher and his fiery cries,
one for the prisoner in the slam;
for all we raise our tankards high.
Which of us will owe the bar, which of us will buy them?
Who picks up the tab for this, for our duty solemn
tonight as we raise our tankards high?
XIV. Amor Volat Undique
Love flies everywhere, and is seized with passion. Young men and women come together, as is right. If a girl has no boyfriend, she is quite without joy; she harbours the depths of night shut up in her inmost heart. It is pure bitterness.
“The Birds and the Bees”
Storks and cabbage, birds and bees,
surely babes aren’t made of these
though girls, perhaps,
since we poor chaps
suffer their honey and stings!
XVII. Circa Mea Pectora
In my heart there are many sighs for your beauty which torture me miserably.
Send a message, send a message, my beloved does not come.
Your eyes shine like the rays of the sun, like a flash of lightning which gives light to darkness.
Send a message, send a message, my beloved does not come.
May God grant, may the gods grant, what I have set myself to do, and that is, to unlock the bonds of her virginity.
Send a message, send a message, my beloved does not come.
“No One Writes a Poem Anymore”
Do you love me? Circle yes
or no, then that works, too.
Then to my friend this note pass,
through him, to me, from you.
No more the love-leaf white, blue-ruled;
Cupid has lost his pluck.
Technology and romance dueled;
romance lost; wtf?
XVIII. Si Puer Cum Puella
If a boy lingers with a little girl in a cellar, their meeting is fortunate. As Love increases and for both (pariter) boredom is dispatched far from their midst, an indescribable game occurs with limbs, shoulders, lips.
“I Love You From the Bottom of My House”
Look, my dear, our secret bower
out of sight and parent’s power!
Now for romance
once we’ve a chance
to move the washer and dryer…
XIX. Veni, Veni, Venias
Come, come, please come, don’t make me die, hyrca, hyrce, nazara, trilirivos.
Beautiful is your face, the glance of your eyes, the tresses of your hair; oh how beautiful is your appearance!
You are redder than the rose, brighter than the lily, more beautiful than all; you are my constant pride!
“You Make Me Make Up Words”
Have I told you, lately, that you I hinc?
That you’re my trilirivos true?
That I hyrca, hyrce all the while
when you that wafna do?
For you I’d slay a heffalump
and pluck a phoenix plume,
a unicorn I’d ride to your door,
milk the cow gone o’er the moon.
Though all this Harry Potter sounds
I’m as sober as can be,
so I ask you, dear, simply plain:
my love…would you na-za-za me?
XX. In Trutina (I almost hate to make fun of this one; the song is SO beautiful…)
In my mind’s wavering balance wanton love and chastity sway in opposite scales. But I choose what I see, I offer my neck to the yoke; to a yoke so sweet I cross.
“The Trutina Inn”
Welcome to Trutina, dear
the population: two.
There’s me standing over here
and over there is you.
There is but a single cot
and the hour’s getting late.
I’m sure an answer will be got
if we consolidate…
There you go! Some of the behind-the-scenes fun I’ve had this semester!
Yes, it is completely OK for you to chuckle, chortle or otherwise guffaw at some of these, even if you are at work.
First of all, thank you so much for all your kind support! And now I’d like to share with you the fruits that all your kindness and prayers won for me; never, ever underestimate what even a drop of your love, even if you consider yours to come from the most unloving heart, can do in this world. It totally moved my whole reality this past weekend!
As you all know, I fell ill last Tuesday and on Thursday I made the call that I would not be able to perform “Carmina Burana” with the symphony over the weekend. I was so disappointed because not only had I been looking forward to it all semester, but my friends and my parents were coming to see me on stage! So once it looked as though I would not be on that stage I bought a couple of tickets so I could attend with my parents and offered the whole thing to God. I was too exhausted to worry about something I could not change.
Now on that Tuesday I made a doctor’s appointment; I very rarely get sick and when I do I usually just drink a lot of water, rest and tough it out. But I WANTED to get better as soon as possible, so I went to the doctor and told them to give me whatever magic pill would make me well the quickest! So they did and I noticed a marked improvement the next day but it was not good enough, and so the same on that Thursday when I threw in the towel.
That Thursday night, when I should have been getting ready to perform, my father arrived way earlier than expected. As has been mentioned in a previous post, I’ve been experiencing a lot of pain and trouble in my heart regarding my father and so I was a little anxious about his visit. Yet since I was not performing that night we were able to walk down to a local barbecue place and have a nice dinner and a terrific visit. It was truly a blessed time and were I performing that night it would never have taken place.
Friday we attended the ordination of five men to the diaconate at the Cathedral Basilica and then went to Cahokia Mounds since he is such a huge Native American archaeology buff and it was on his “bucket list,” and we enjoyed an afternoon of perfect weather. At this point I again was not planning on performing that night so I was completely free to be “present” to and with my dad instead of having the performance on my mind. I was feeling great and could even hum along with my parts through most of my range.
When we got back in the afternoon I received an email from my manager: apparently several other members of the chorus had taken ill (not my fault! I stayed well away from everyone!) and could not perform. She asked me how I was feeling and that if I was up to performing Saturday and Sunday they would love to have me back.
?!
I told her that I would continue resting my voice and give it a whirl Saturday afternoon; if I could sing through my parts adequately I would let her know. So that night I sat with my dad and watched the symphony and chorus bring the house down with “Carmina Burana,” which my dad said was the best thing he’d ever heard. He was bummed that I still wasn’t on stage but he was proud to see what I’ve been a part of for the past few months. We came back and enjoyed a glass of his homemade wine and chatted some more before we said goodbye and goodnight, since he was going to leave early in the morning.
Saturday my voice tested out and I let the manager know that I would be there at call time, all tuxed-up and ready to sing! I also called my mother who was en route from Iowa to let her know that she would be seeing me on stage that night! I was so happy for this, being that it was Mother’s Day weekend and all.
While I was still extremely glad to have my somewhat rough voice blending into a much larger choir, I made it all the way through and, let me tell you something, when a whole crowd of a few thousand leaps to their feet right when the last note of “Carmina Burana” stops and go absolutely nuts…yeah, it’s a pretty amazing experience! We had four “curtain calls” (thought there technically wasn’t a curtain) and each time the conductor motioned for the chorus to stand, the whole crowd went even more crazy! And of course my mom was just bawling and bawling the whole time.
After the concert my mother, her friend and I went to Bailey’s Chocolate Bar in Lafayette Square and pigged out a little bit and chatted about all sorts of things until midnight or so. It sure was hard to get to sleep after such an intense experience! Just singing “Carmina Burana” is intense enough but the reaction we got out of the crowd was phenomenal.
Sunday morning the three of us plus a dear friend of mine attended Mass at the Cathedral Basilica and then came back for a simple lunch of leftover fettuccine alfredo before they left for Iowa. That afternoon I performed for the last time as a member of the symphony chorus, turned in my score, said my goodbyes, and came home to have dinner with my brothers.
As you can see, I did not get the weekend I had originally planned or hoped for. Yet, by the grace of God working through my sickness and all your kind thoughts and prayers (plus the prayers of many others who are not on Xanga!), I got not only the weekend I needed and, really, the weekend that I truly in the heart of my heart desired.
God bless all of you!
Hey everyone!
This Saturday, May 7th at 8pm CENTRAL tune in here http://www.stlpublicradio.org/listen.php to listen to the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and Chorus perform Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana!” I’ll be singing in it if this cold that assailed me yesterday is better in time (pray for me)!
EDIT: Thank you all for your kindness and prayers! Unfortunately my voice has not recovered to the degree necessary to allow performing this weekend…shucks! But do turn in anyways to hear what “I’ve been up to” this semester!
