Karitas Habundant, Hildegard von Bingen, 1098-1179

Caritas Abundant, Nancy Grundahl, 1946- 

Love abounds in all,
from the depths exalted and excelling
over every star,
and most beloved of all,
for to the highest King the kiss of peace she gave.

Canti di Ildegarda, Carlotta Ferrari, 1975-

1.Nos sumus in mundo

We live within the world,
and you within our minds,
and we embrace you in our hearts
as if you’re present even now.

2. Quasi Aurora

The Son of God has come forth from
her hidden chamber like the dawn.

Motet for the Annunciation, Frank Ferko, 1950-

Today is the fountainhead of our salvation
And the revelation of an eternal mystery
The son of God becomes the Son of the Virgin
And Gabriel announces this grace:
Therefore let us exclaim with him to the Mother of God,
Rejoice, O Woman, full of grace, the Lord is with you.

Motet for the Nativity of the Mother of God

This is the day of the Lord, rejoice therefore, o nations!
Behold the chamber of the light and the scroll of the Living Word
Has come forth from the womb, 
ready for the entrance of the High Priest, arrives this day.
She is the only one who introduces Christ
And Christ alone, into the world,
For the salvation of our souls.

O Magnum Mysterium, Morten Lauridsen, 1943-

O great mystery,
And wondrous sacrament,
That animals should see the newborn Lord
Lying in their manger!
Blessed is the  Virgin whose womb
Was worthy to bear the Lord Jesus Christ. Alleluia!

In Taberna, Carl Orff, 1895-1982

When we are in the tavern,
we do not think how we will go to dust,
but we hurry to gamble,
which always makes us sweat.
What happens in the tavern,
where money is host,
you may well ask,
and hear what I say.
Some gamble, some drink,
some behave loosely.
But of those who gamble,
some are stripped bare,
some win their clothes here,
some are dressed in sacks.
Here no-one fears death,
but they throw the dice in the name of Bacchus

First of all it is to the wine-merchant
the libertines drink,
one for the prisoners,
three for the living,
four for all Christians,
five for the faithful dead,
six for the loose sisters,
seven for the footpads in the wood,

Eight for the errant brethren,
nine for the dispersed monks,
ten for the seamen,
eleven for the squabblers,
twelve for the penitent,
thirteen for the wayfarers.
To the Pope as to the king
they all drink without restraint.

The mistress drinks, the master drinks,
the soldier drinks, the priest drinks,
the man drinks, the woman drinks,
the servant drinks with the maid,
the swift man drinks, the lazy man drinks,
the white man drinks, the black man drinks,
the settled man drinks, the wanderer drinks,
the stupid man drinks, the wise man drinks,

The poor man drinks, the sick man drinks,
the exile drinks, and the stranger,
the boy drinks, the old man drinks,
the bishop drinks, and the deacon,
the sister drinks, the brother drinks,
the old lady drinks, the mother drinks,
that woman drinks, that man drinks,
a hundred drink, a thousand drink.

Six hundred pennies would hardly suffice,
if everyone drinks immoderately and immeasurably.
However much they cheerfully drink
we are the ones whom everyone scolds,
and thus we are destitute.
May those who slander us be cursed
and may their names not be written in the book of the righteous. Io!

Jolly Jankin, Michael Jones, 1947-

‘Kyrie’, so ‘kyrie’,
Jankin syngeth merie
With ‘aleyson’.
As I went on Yole day
In our prosessyon
Knew I joly Jankin
Be his mery ton:
Kyrieleyson.

Jankin began the Offis
On the Yole day,
And yet me thynketh it dos me good,
So merie gan he say
‘Kyrieleyson’.

Jankin red the Pistil
Ful fair and ful wel,
And yet me thinketh it does me good,
As ever have I sel.
Kyrieleyson.

Jankin at the Sanctus
Craketh a merie note,
And yet me thinketh it does me good –
I payed for his cote.
Kyrieleyson.

Jankin craketh notes
An hundred on a knot,
And yet he hakketh them smaller
Than wortes to the pot.
Kyrieleyson.

Jankin at the Angnus
Bereth the pax-brede,
He twynkeled, but sayd nought,
And on myn foot he trede.
Kyrieleyson.

Benedicamus domino,
Christ from schame me schilde.
Deo gracias therto –
Alas, I go with childe!
Kyrieleyson.

Glossary:

Kýrie, eléison (Gk.) – “Lord, have mercy.”
Aleyson – woman’s name, punning on “eleison”
Yole – Yule, Christmas
Be his mery ton – by his merry tone
Offis – the office, the Introit to the mass
Pistil - epistle
As ever have I sel – as I hope always to be happy
Craketh a merrie note – sings divisions, quick short notes
On a knot – in a phrase or cluster
Wortes to the pot – herbs for the pot
Pax-brede – a silver disc, kissed during the mass
Twynkeled – winked
Benedicamus Domino – “Let us bless the Lord”
Deo Gracias therto – “Thanks be to God” as well.

Three Ravens, Rachel Sag, 1974-  

There were three ravens sat on a tree
They were as black as they might be.
The one of them said to his mate,
'Where shall we our breakfast take?'
'Downe in yonder greene field,
There lies a knight slain under his shield.
'His hounds they lie downe at his feet,
So well they can their master keep.
'His hawkes they fly so eagerly,
There's no fowle dare come him nie.'
Downe there comes a fallow doe
As great with young as she might goe.
She lift up his bloody head,
And kissed his wounds that were so red.
She got him up upon her back,
And carried him to earthen lake
She buried him before the prime
She was dead herself ere even-song time.
God send every gentleman,
Such hawkes, such hounds, and such a leman

Glossary:

A fallow doe – the knight’s lady
Earthen lake – pit
Prime – first hour of the day
Leman – sweetheart

Mosquitoes, Stephen Chatman, 1950-

Bzz

Woodpecker

Woodpecker
Bang
Tap
Peck
Banging against a dead bough
Now double dead bough
Pecking
Tap a tap a tap
Knock a knock a knock
Peck a peck a peck
Tapping woodpecker
Bang away! Tap a tap a tap a…..

The Last Dodo, Anna Pope, 1968

Could this be the sound of the Dodo?
Imagine, surrounded by feathers
But none the same
Imagine Dodo, the last one
Imagine if you were left alone
Your friends gone
Everyone like you, gone
Surrounded by strangers who don’t understand
Who mock you for your difference
Imagine that, the last one
Imagine, can we imagine the sound of the dodo? Can we?
Can that strange lonely bird live again in the echoes of this sound?
Dodo, we sing your song.

Your song lives on.

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