Geistliche Lieder (from Spanisches Liederbuch)

Hugo Wolf (1860–1903)

Hugo Wolf’s Geistliche Lieder (Spiritual Songs) from his Spanisches Liederbuch (Spanish Songbook) is our first exploration through a process of living in doubt to a state of joy and oneness with the Divine. Wolf grew up a practicing Catholic, but walked away from the faith as he went through life. His Catholicism and spirituality, though, are on display within today’s opening songs taken from Spanish poets and translated into German by the poets Geibel and Heyse. These two German poets, like many of the early 19th century, turned to the more “exotic” poetry of Spain and poets like Cervantes. They wanted to bring these poems to their compatriots, hence the poems you will hear this evening. All totaled, Wolf set 10 spiritual poems and 34 secular poems to music. With a desire to follow in his idol Richard Wagner’s footsteps, Wolf longed to be a great composer of opera. This desire translated into the rich romantic harmonies found in Wolf’s writing, much like Wagner might have used. While Wolf only wrote two operas, both using Spanish texts and plots, he never did realize his dream of becoming great in the realm of opera; but luckily for us, his gift for writing beautiful song for voice and piano took the place of that operatic desire. Within each song, you will hear all of the passions, thoughts and emotions that go into a 30-minute opera scene condensed into the sonorous beauty of a few pages of song. The first two songs, Nun bin ich dein (“Now I am yours”) and Die du Gott (“You who bore God”), represent the dedicatory praise and prayer of medieval hymns to the Virgin Mary and the sinner’s request for clemency. The next four songs portray the Nativity by means of different poetic personas and descriptions. The remaining Passionslieder (Passion Songs) depict the culmination of the pilgrimage of the penitent and the profound search for redemption.

German text translations — Emanuel Geibel and Paul Heyse | English translations © Richard Stokes
 

1. Nun bin ich dein (Now I am thine)

Now I am thine,
Thou flower of all flowers,
And I shall sing solely
In Thy praise always;
I shall zealously
Devote myself to Thee
And Thy suffering.

O chosen lady,
In thee is all my hope,
My innermost being
Is forever open to thee.
Come, deliver me
From the curse of the Evil One
Which has so sorely afflicted me!

Thou star of the sea,
Thou haven of delights,
Through whom the afflicted
Can find healing for their wounds,
Before I perish,
Look down on me,
Thou queen of suns!

Never can the abundance
Of thy grace run dry;
Thou dost help him to victory
Who is laden with shame.
To cling to thee,
To lie at thy feet
Heals all grief and pain.

I suffer grievously
Richly deserved punishments.
I am in such dread,
Soon to sleep the sleep of death.
O draw near to me,
And through the ocean
Bring me, ah, to harbour! 
 

2. Die du Gott gebarst, du Reine (Thou who didst bear God, O pure one)

Thou who didst bear God, O pure one,
And who alone
Delivered us from our chains,
Make me glad, I who weep,
For only thy
Grace and mercy can save us.
Lady, turn me to thee entirely,
That they might end,
This torment and this dread,
That death might find me unafraid,
And I be not blinded
By the light of the heavenly pastures.
Because thou wert born immaculate,
Chosen
To dwell in eternal glory –
However much sorrow dims my eyes,
I am not lost,
If thou wilt save me. 
 

3. Nun wandre, Maria (Journey on, now, Mary) — Saint Joseph Sings

Journey on, now, Mary,
Keep journeying.
The cocks are crowing,
And the place is near.

Journey on, beloved,
My jewel,
And soon we shall
Be in Bethlehem.
Then you shall rest well
And slumber there.
The cocks are crowing,
And the place is near.

I will see, my lady,
That your strength is failing;
I can hardly, alas,
Bear your agony.
Courage! We shall find
Some shelter there.
The cocks are crowing,
And the place is near.

If only your hour of pain
Were over, O Mary,
I should handsomely reward
The happy tidings.
This little ass here
I’d gladly give away!
The cocks are crowing,
Come! The place is near. 
 

4. Die ihr schwebet um diese Palmen (You who hover about these Palms)

You who hover
About these palms
In night and wind,
You holy angels,
Silence the tree-tops!
My child is sleeping.

You palms of Bethlehem
In the raging wind,
Why do you bluster
So angrily today!
Oh roar not so!
Be still, lean
Calmly and gently over us;
Silence the tree-tops!
My child is sleeping.

The heavenly babe
Suffers distress,
Ah, how weary He has grown
With the sorrows of this world.
Ah, now that in sleep
His pains
Are gently eased,
Silence the tree-tops!
My child is sleeping.

Fierce cold
Blows down on us,
With what shall I cover
My little child’s limbs?
O all you angels
Who wing your way
On the winds,
Silence the tree-tops!
My child is sleeping. 
 

5. Führ mich, Kind, nach Bethlehem (Lead me, child, to Bethlehem!)

Lead me, child, to Bethlehem!
Thee, my God, Thee will I see.
Whoever managed to come to Thee,
Without Thy help!

Shake me awake,
Call me, and I shall come;
Stretch forth Thy hand to guide me,
That I might set out.
That I might gaze on Bethlehem,
There to see my God.
Whoever managed to come to Thee,
Without Thy help!

I am sorely oppressed and weighed down
With the grievous sickness of sin.
If Thou wilt not come to my aid,
I must stumble and falter.
Lead me to Bethlehem,
Thee, my God, Thee will I see.
Whoever managed to come to Thee,
Without Thy help! 
 

6. Ach, des Knaben Augen (Ah, the infant's eyes)

Ah, the Infant’s eyes seemed
So beautiful and clear to me,
And a radiance streams from them
That captures my whole heart.

If only He would turn
Those sweet eyes on mine!
If He saw His image reflected there,
He would surely greet me lovingly.
So I surrender myself
To the sole service of His eyes,
For a radiance shines from them
That captures my whole heart. 
 

7. Mühvoll komm ich und beladen (In toil I come and heavy-laden)

In toil I come and heavy-laden,
Receive me, O haven of mercy!

See, I come with burning tears
And humble mien,
All blackened with the dust of earth.
Thou alone canst make me white
As the fleece of lambs.
Thou shalt eradicate the wrongs
Of the penitent who embraces Thee;
Take, then, Lord, the burden from me,
In toil I come and heavy-laden.

Let me kneel before Thee, pleading,
That I might anoint Thy feet
With scented spikenard and tears,
Like that woman Thou didst forgive,
Until my guilt disperses like smoke.
Thou who didst once tell the thief:
“Today shalt thou be with me
In Paradise!” – O take me,
Receive me, O haven of mercy! 
 

8. Ach, wie lang die Seele schlummert!  (Ah, how long the soul has slumbered!)

Ah, how long the soul has slumbered!
It is time it roused itself.

My soul might be considered dead,
It sleeps so heavily and fearfully,
Since overcome by that intoxication
It quaffed from the cup of sin.
But now the longed-for light
Breaks through and dazzles the eyes:
It is time it roused itself.

Though the soul seemed deaf
To the sweet angelic choirs:
It timidly pricks up its ears
On hearing God weep as a little child.
Since after a long night of sleep,
Such a day of grace now smiles on it,
It is time it roused itself. 
 

9. Herr, was trägt der Boden hier  (Lord, what will grow in this soil)

Lord, what will grow in this soil
That Thou dost water with Thy bitter tears?
“Thorns, dear heart, for me,
And for you a wreath of flowers.”

Ah, where such streams flow,
Can a garden flourish there?
“Yes, and I know this: many varied
Wreaths are woven there.”
O my Lord, for whose head
Are these wreaths woven, say?
“Those of thorns are for me,
Those of flowers I hand to you.” 
 

10. Wunden trägst du mein Geliebter (Thou art wounded, my belovèd Lord)

Thou art wounded, my belovèd Lord,
And dost suffer pain;
Would I could bear it for Thee!

Lord, who dared so to stain
Thy brow with blood and sweat?
“These wounds are the price
Of redeeming you, O soul.
From these wounds I must die
For my great love of you.”

I could I bear them, Lord, for Thee,
Since they are mortal wounds.
“If this suffering moves you, child,
You may call them living wounds:
Not one of them was made, from which
Life does not flow for you.”

Ah, how my heart and mind
Ache with Thy anguish!
“Harsher yet with true courage,
I’d gladly endure to redeem you;
For he alone knows how to love
Who has died for ardent love.”

Thou art wounded, my belovèd Lord,
And dost suffer pain;
Would I could bear it for Thee!

PART II

The next set of eleven songs take a look at the same experience as in PART I of this program, moving from a feeling of living without God to an almost ecstatic feeling or knowledge of being one with God by the end of the concert. Benjamin Britten, a great 20th century English opera composer, set an entire set of songs to the poetry of the great poet and pastor, John Donne. This evening, you will hear three of his sonnets beginning with “O might those sighes and teares.” You will hear the sighs and longing for connection continually throughout the piano as the singer ruminates on “th’effect and cause, the punishment and sinne.” We then move to 21st century American composer, James Primosch, and his setting of Susan Stewart’s poem "Cinder" as the poet looks for ways to make sense of this life without connection to the Divine. This is followed by Britten’s “Thou Hast Made Me” which begins with the speaker asking God if he will allow his creation, the speaker, to fall into “decay.” He has lived a bad life, and now all his sins are catching up with him. The speaker can feel his body falling apart around him, and needs the Creator to fix him as soon as possible. If he cannot regain a modicum of control over himself, he knows that he will walk straight to death. We are then drawn back into Primosch’s questions and thoughts on sin and death versus life and oneness with God in “The Ladder of Divine Ascent,” which looks at the biblical scripture of Jacob seeing the angels ascend and descend a ladder from Heaven as discerned from the 6–7th century poet, John Climacus. We begin to wend our way closer to the Divine through Vaughan Williams’ stirring song for viola, piano and tenor with a text by the great hymn writer, Isaac Watts. From there, we move from the more sensual closeness with all things divine through the longing to understand the grief of losing a spouse in Britten’s “Since She Whom I loved,” then into the erotic poem of love by French poet and composer, Olivier Messiaen. His two French songs are taken from a song set titled Poèmes pour Mi, written to honor Messiaen’s love for his wife whom he nicknamed “Mi.”  The first of these, Le collier (“The Necklace”), represents a sensual scene that could be taken from the Bible’s Song of Solomon. The final three songs of the program lead us through an entreaty to Love/God to come and reveal themselves to the singer. This is followed by an exultant “Evening Hymn” praising God for all the blessings we receive whether we realize it or not. The program concludes with the second Messiaen, Prière exaucée (“A Prayer Granted”), as the singer invites the bells to ring out and proclaim the return of bliss and complete and total joy.
 

O might those sighes and teares

O might those sighes and teares returne againe
Into my breast and eyes, which I have spent,
That I might in this holy discontent
Mourne with some fruit, as I have mourn'd in vaine;

In mine Idolatry what showres of raine
Mine eyes did waste? What griefs my heart did rent?
That sufferance was my sinne; now I repent;
'Cause I did suffer I must suffer paine.

Th'hydroptique drunkard, and night-scouting thiefe,
The itchy Lecher, and selfe-tickling proud
Have the remembrance of past joyes, for reliefe
Of comming ills. To (poore) me is allow'd
No ease; for, long, yet vehement griefe hath beene
Th'effect and cause, the punishment and sinne.

— Text: John Donne

Cinder

We needed fire to make
the tongs and tongs to hold
us from the flame; we needed
ash to clean the cloth
and cloth to clean the ash's
stain; we needed stars
to find our way, to make
the light that blurred the stars;
we needed death to mark
an end, an end that time
in time could mend.
Born in love, the consequence –
born of love, the need.
Tell me, ravaged singer,
how the cinder bears the seed.

— Text: Susan Stewart

Thou hast made me

Thou hast made me, and shall thy work decay?
Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste,
I run to death, and death meets me as fast,
And all my pleasures are like yesterday;
I dare not move my dim eyes any way,
Despair behind, and death before doth cast
Such terror, and my feebled flesh doth waste
By sin in it, which it towards hell doth weigh.
Only thou art above, and when towards thee
By thy leave I can look, I rise again;
But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,
That not one hour I can myself sustain;
Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art,
And thou like adamant draw mine iron heart.

— Text: John Donne

The Ladder of Divine Ascent

I long to know how Jacob saw you 
fixed above the ladder. 
That climb, how was it? 
Tell me, for I long to know. 
What is the mode, 
what is the law joining together those steps 
that the lover has set as an ascent in his heart? 
I thirst to know the number of those steps, 
and the time required to climb them. 
He who discovered Your struggle and Your vision 
has spoken to us of the guides. 
But he would not — perhaps he could not — 
tell us any more.

— Text: John Climacus

John Climacus (7th Century; translated by Colm Luibheid and Norman Russell, adapted by the composer). Excerpt from John Climacus: The Ladder of Divine Ascent, translated by Colm Luibheid and Norman Russell. Copyright © 1982 by the Missionary Society of St. Paul the Apostle in the State of New York. Paulist Press, Inc., Mahwah, NJ. Reprinted by permission of Paulist Press, Inc.

Who is This Fair One?

Who is this fair one in distress,
That travels from this wilderness;
And, pressed with sorrows and with sins,
On her beloved Lord she leans?

This is the spouse of Christ our God,
Bought with the treasures of his blood;
And her request and her complaint
Is but the voice of every saint:

“O let my name engraven stand
Both on thy heart and on thy hand;
Seal me upon thy arm, and wear
That pledge of love for ever there.

“Stronger than death thy love is known,
Which floods of wrath can never drown;
And hell and earth in vain combine,
To quench a fire so much divine.

“But I am jealous of my heart,
Lest it should once from thee depart;
Then let thy name be well impressed,
As a fair signet, on my breast.

“Till thou hast brought me to thy home,
Where fears and doubts can never come,
Thy countenance let me often see,
And often thou shalt hear from me.”

Lord Come my beloved, haste away,
Cut short the hours of Thy delay,
Fly like a youthful hart or roe
Over the hills where spices blow!    

— Text: Isaac Watts

”That Passeth All Understanding'

An awe so quiet 
I don't know when it began. 
A gratitude 
Had begun 
to sing in me. 
Was there 
some moment 
dividing 
song from no song? 
When does dewfall begin? 
When does night 
fold its arms over our hearts 
to cherish them? 
When is daybreak?

— Text: Denise Levertov

"...That Passeth All Understanding" by Denise Levertov, from Oblique Players, copyright © 1984 by Denise Levertov.

Since She Whom I Loved

Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
To nature, and to hers, and my good is dead,
And her soul early into heaven ravished,
Wholly in heavenly things my mind is set.
Here the admiring her my mind did whet
To seek thee, God; so streams do show the head;
But though I have found thee, and thou my thirst hast fed,
A holy thirsty dropsy melts me yet.
But why should I beg more love, whenas thou
Dost woo my soul, for hers off'ring all thine,
And dost not only fear lest I allow
My love to saints and angels, things divine,
But in thy tender jealousy dost doubt
Lest the world, flesh, yea devil put thee out.

— Text: John Donne

Le collier (The necklace)

Spring enchained, light rainbow of morning,
Ah! my necklace! 
Ah! my necklace!
Small living support of my weary ears,
Necklace of renewal, of smiles, of grace,
Oriental necklace, chosen, multi-coloured
With hard, whimsical pearls!
Curving landscape, espousing the fresh morning air,
Ah! my necklace! 
Ah! my necklace!
Your two arms round my neck, this morning.

— Text: Olivier Messiaen; English translation © Richard Stokes

Come Love, come Lord

Come Love, come Lord, and that long day
For which I languish, come away.
When this dry soul those eyes shall see
And drink the unseal'd source of Thee,
When glory's sun faith's shades shall chase,
Then for Thy veil give me Thy face.

— Text: Richard Cranshaw

Evening Hymn

O gladsome light, O grace
Of God the Father’s face,
Th’ eternal splendor wearing,
Celestial, holy, blest,
Our Savior, Jesus Christ,
Joyful in thine appearing:

Now ere day fadeth quite,
We see the evening light,
Our wonted hymn outpouring;
Father of might unknown,
Thee, his incarnate Son,
And Holy Spir’t adoring.

To thee of right belongs
All praise of holy songs,
O Son of God, Life-giver.
Thee therefore, O most high,
The world doth glorify,
And shall exalt forever.

— Text: Robert Bridges

Prière exaucée (A prayer granted)

Shake up the solitary, ancient mountain of pain,
May the sun work over the bitter waters of my heart!
O Jesus, living bread, giver of life,
Say but one word and my soul shall be healed.

Shake up the solitary, ancient mountain of pain,
May the sun work over the bitter waters of my heart!
Give me your grace,
Give me your grace!

Ring out, my heart!
May your ringing resound hard, long and deep!
Strike, knock, smite for your king!
Strike, knock, smite for your God!
Behold the day of your glory and resurrection!
Bliss has returned.

— Text: Olivier Messiaen; English translation © Richard Stokes