I am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn (John Alden Carpenter): Difference between revisions
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==General Information== | ==General Information== | ||
'''Title:''' ''I am like a Remnant of a Cloud of Autumn'' <br> | '''Title:''' ''I am like a Remnant of a Cloud of Autumn''<br> | ||
{{Composer|John Alden Carpenter}} | {{Composer|John Alden Carpenter}} | ||
{{Lyricist|Rabindranath Tagore| (1861-1941)}} | {{Lyricist|Rabindranath Tagore| (1861-1941)}} | ||
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{{Language|English}} | {{Language|English}} | ||
{{Instruments|Piano}} | {{Instruments|Piano}} | ||
'''Published:''' No title, published 1914, from Gitanjali (Song Offerings), No. 4. Lyrics from Gitanjali, published 1913. <br> | '''Published:''' No title, published 1914, from Gitanjali (Song Offerings), No. 4. Lyrics from Gitanjali, published 1913.<br> | ||
'''Description:''' <br> | '''Description:'''<br> | ||
'''External websites:''' | '''External websites:''' |
Revision as of 06:37, 2 April 2015
Music files
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Help |
- Contributor: David Newman (submitted 2008-07-11). Score information: Letter, 2 pages, 125 kB Copyright: Public Domain
- Edition notes: Cross posting by Art Song Central.
General Information
Title: I am like a Remnant of a Cloud of Autumn
Composer: John Alden Carpenter
Lyricist: Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
Number of voices: 1v Voicing: Soprano solo
Genre: Secular, Aria
Language: English
Instruments: Piano
Published: No title, published 1914, from Gitanjali (Song Offerings), No. 4. Lyrics from Gitanjali, published 1913.
Description:
External websites:
- Entry at the "Lied and Art Song Text" site for "I am like a Remnant of a Cloud of Autumn".
- Entry at the "Art Song Central" site for "The Sleep that flits on Baby's Eyes".
- Art Song Central's page on "Gitanjali".
- Details of Rabindranath Tagore's Song Cycle: 'Gitanjali' or `song offerings'.
- Wikipedia entry for 'Gitanjali'.
Original text and translations
English text
I am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn
uselessly roaming in the sky,
O my sun ever-glorious!
Thy touch has not yet melted my vapour,
making me one with thy light,
and thus I count mounts and years separated from thee.
If this be thy wish and if this be thy play,
then take this fleeting emptiness of mine,
paint it with colours, gild it with gold,
float it on the wanton wind and spread it in varied wonders.
And again, when it shall be thy wish to end this play at night,
I shall melt and vanish away in the dark,
or it may be in a smile of the white morning,
in a coolness of purity transparent.