2020 Baroque on Beaver Programs & Notes

All programs except Martha Guth to be announced from their videos.

July 25, 2020

Home & Away

An Intimate Gala Event

Martha Guth, Soprano
Karl Paulnack,Pianist
Sara Haefeli, Cellist


Jake Heggie|Terrence McNally: He will gather us around
Stephen Foster: Hard times come again no more

Roberto Sierra|Torres: Madrugada
Franz Schubert|Willemer: Suleika I

Jessie Montgomery|Rivas: Loisaida my love

John Greer| MacGillivray: Song for the Mira
Roberto Sierra|Torres: Copla Lejana
Healy Willan|Yeats: Lake Isle of Innisfree

Gilda Lyons|Pueblo Prayer: Hold on

Robsert Schumann|Schiller: Des Sennen Abschied
Arr. Healy Willan|Burns: Ae fond kiss 

Texts and Translations:

He will Gather us around (Dead Man Walking) 

He will gather us around,
all around,
By and by, you and I.
All around him,
Gather us Around.

-Terrence McNalley 1938-2020

Hard Times

Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears
Oh, hard times, come again no more.

'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary
Hard times, hard times, come again no more
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door
Oh hard times, come again no more.

While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay
There are frail forms fainting at the door
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say
Oh, hard times, come again no more.

'Tis the song, the sign of the weary
Hard times, hard times, come again no more
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door
Oh hard times, come again no more.

-Stephen Foster (1826-1864)


Ya está el lucero del alba
encimita del palmar,
como horquilla de cristal
en el moño de una palma.
Hacia él vuela mi alma,
buscándote en el vacio.
Si Tambien de tu bohio
lo estuvieras tú mirando,
ahora se estarían besando
tu pensamiento y el mío.
-Luis Lloréns Torres (1876-1944)

Early Morning

The morning star
sits on top of the palm tree,
as if it were a crystal pin
adorning the palm’s hair.
My soul takes flight to it,
searching for you in the empty space.
If you are also watching
from your little hut
then both your thoughts and mine
would be joined in a kiss.
-Trans. Virginia Sierra

Suleika I

Was bedeutet die Bewegung?
Bringt der Ost mir frohe Kunde?
Seiner Schwingen frische Regung
Kühlt des Herzens tiefe Wunde.

Kosend spielt er mit dem Staube,
Jagt ihn auf in leichten Wölkchen,
Treibt zur sichern Rebenlaube
Der Insekten frohes Völkchen.

Lindert sanft der Sonne Glühen,
Kühlt auch mir die heissen Wangen,
Küsst die Reben noch im Fliehen,
Die auf Feld und Hügel prangen.

Und mir bringt sein leises Flüstern
Von dem Freunde tausend Grüsse;
Eh’ noch diese Hügel düstern,
Grüssen mich wohl tausend Küsse.

Und so kannst du weiter ziehen!
Diene Freunden und Betrübten.
Dort wo hohe Mauern glühen,
Dort find’ ich bald den Vielgeliebten.

Ach, die wahre Herzenskunde,
Liebeshauch, erfrischtes Leben
Wird mir nur aus seinem Munde,
Kann mir nur sein Atem geben.
-Marianne von Willemer (1784-1860)

What does this rustling noise mean?
Is it the east wind bringing me joyful tidings?
The refreshing motion of its wings
Cools the heart’s deep wound.

It plays caressingly with the dust,
Throwing it up in light little clouds,
And drives the happy swarm of insects
To the safety of the vine-leaves.

It gently tempers the burning heat of the sun,
And cools my hot cheeks;
Even as it flies, it kisses the vines
That adorn the fields and hillsides.

And its soft whispering brings me
A thousand greetings from my love;
Even as these hills grow dark
I shall be greeted by a thousand kisses.

Und you may pass on now, wind,
And serve the happy and the sad;
There, where high walls glow,
There, I shall soon find my love.

Ah, the true message of the heart,
The breath of love, renewed life
Will come to me only from his lips,
And can be given to me only by his breath.
-Trans. Martha Guth

Loisaida, I love you

Lower East Side,
I love you.
You’er my lady fair.
No matter where I am,
I think of you!
The mountains and the
valleys cannot compare,
my love to you
Loisaida, I love you.
I dig the way you talk,
I dig the way you look

Me vacila tu cantar
y yo me las juego
fria pa’ que vivas
para siempre.
En mi mente, mi amada,
yo te llamo Loisaida
una mezcla, la perfecta
una gente bien decente
de to ‘as rasas
que estiman
que te adoran
que no saben explicar
lo que le pasa
cuando ausente de
tus calles peligrosas
si te aman
A ti, mi hermosa Loisaida
O what a town.....
even with your drug-infested
pocket parks, playgrounds
where our young bloods
hang around
waiting, hoping that
one day when they too
get well and smile again
your love is all
they need to come around.
Loisaida, I love you.
Your buildings are
burning up
that we got to stop.
Loisaida, my love,
Te amo.
-Bimbo Rivas (1939-1992)

Your singing makes me hesitate
But I’ll take the risk
So you may live
In my mind, my love
I call you – Loisaida,
An incredible mix:
The perfect
people, descended
from all races.
Those who adore you
Esteem you so highly
That they are unable to explain
What happens to them
when away from your
dangerous streets
That they love,
My beautiful Loisaida.
-Trans. Ricardo Lugo

Song for the Mira

Out on the Mira on warm afternoons,
Old men go fishin' with black line and spoons.
And, if they catch nothin', they never complain;
I wish I was with them again—

As boys in their boats call to girls on the shore,
Teasin' the ones that they dearly adore.
And, into the ev'ning, the courting begins;
I wish I was with them again.

Can you imagine a piece of the universe
More fit for princes and kings?
I'll trade you ten of your cities for Marion Bridge
And the pleasure it brings.

Out on the Mira on soft summer nights,
Bonfires blaze to the children's delight.
They dance 'round the flames, singin' songs with their friends;
I wish I was with them again.

And over the ashes the stories are told
Of witches and werewolves and Oak Island gold.
Stars on the river-face sparkle and spin;
I wish I was with them again.

Out on the Mira the people are kind;
They treat you to homebrew and help you unwind.
And, if you come broken, they'll see that you mend;
I wish I was with them again.

Now I'll conclude with a wish you go well:
Sweet be your dreams—and your happiness swell.
I'll leave you here, for my journey begins;
I'm going to be with them again,
-Allister MacGillivray (1948)

Copla Lejana

Mi bohio es mi fortuna
Y de noche alli me encuentra
El Claror de cuando hay luna
Que por las rendijas entra
Si la noche es de tormenta
Prendo el cigarro veguero.
Y a través del aguacero
A las dos de la mañana,
Oigo la triste y lejana
Copla de algún carretero.
-Luis Lloréns Torres (1876-1944)

Distant Ballad

My cabin is my treasure
And at night, on a moonlit night
Moonlight finds me
as it enters through the crevices.
If it is a stormy night
I light up a Havana Cigar.
And through the rain shower,
at two o’clock in the morning
I hear the sad and distant
Ballad of a wagon man passing by
-Trans. Virginia Sierra

Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
-William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

Hold on

Hold on to what is good,
Even if it's a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe,
Even if it's a tree that stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do,
Even if it's a long way from here.
Hold on to your life,
Even if it's easier to let go.
Hold on to my hand,
Even if someday I'll be gone away from you.
-Pueblo Prayer

Des Sennen Abschied

Ihr Matten, lebt wohl,
Ihr sonnigen Weiden!
Der Senne muß scheiden,
Der Sommer ist hin.

Wir fahren zu Berg, wir kommen wieder,
Wenn der Kuckuck ruft, wenn erwachen die Lieder,
Wenn mit Blumen die Erde sich kleidet neu,
Wenn die Brünnlein fließen im lieblichen Mai.

Ihr Matten, lebt wohl,
Ihr sonnigen Weiden!
Der Senne muß scheiden,
Der Sommer ist hin.
-Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805)

Farewell, you meadows,
You sunny pastures!
The herdsman must leave you,
Summer is over.

We’ll return to the mountains, we’ll come again,
When the cuckoo calls, when songs awaken,
When the earth is freshly clothed with flowers,
When the brooklets are flowing in lovely May.

Farewell, you meadows,
You sunny pastures!
The herdsman must leave you,
Summer is over.
-Trans. Richard Stokes

Ae Fond Kiss

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae farewell, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met-or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, Enjoyment, Love and Pleasure!

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae farewell alas, forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
-Robert Burns (1759-1796)