Asleep (James Crawford): Difference between revisions
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==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== | ||
{{ | {{Text|English| | ||
Under his helmet | |||
Up against his pack | |||
after so many days of work and waking | |||
sleep took him by the brow and laid him back | |||
There in the happy no time of his sleeping | |||
death took him by the heart there heaved a quaking | |||
of the aborted life within him leaping, | |||
then chest and sleepy arms once more fell slack. | |||
and soon the blood came creeping from the intruding lead | |||
like ants on track. | |||
Whether his deeper sleep lie shaded by the shaking of great wings | |||
and the thoughts that hung the stars. | |||
High pillowed on calm pillows of God's making | |||
above these clouds these rains these sleets of lead | |||
and these wind's scimitars | |||
or whether yet his thin and sodden head confuses more and more with low mould | |||
his hair being one with the grey grass of finished fields and wire scrags rusty old | |||
who knows? who hopes? who troubles? | |||
let it pass he sleeps. | |||
He sleeps less tremulous less cold than we who wake and waking say Alas!}} | |||
[[Category:Sheet music]] | [[Category:Sheet music]] | ||
[[Category:Modern music]] | [[Category:Modern music]] | ||
Revision as of 08:20, 3 January 2020
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- (Posted 2020-01-02) CPDL #56501:
- Editor: James Crawford (submitted 2020-01-02). Score information: A4, 6 pages, 111 kB Copyright: CC BY NC ND
- Edition notes:
General Information
Title: Asleep
Composer: James Crawford
Lyricist: Wilfred Owen
Number of voices: 1v Voicings: S or T
Genre: Secular, Art song
Language: English
Instruments: Piano
First published: 2020
Description: Asleep is the fifth of a collection of seven songs based upon the poems of Wilfred Owen. It may serve as part of a Remembrance Day event, or a recital or competition.
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
Under his helmet
Up against his pack
after so many days of work and waking
sleep took him by the brow and laid him back
There in the happy no time of his sleeping
death took him by the heart there heaved a quaking
of the aborted life within him leaping,
then chest and sleepy arms once more fell slack.
and soon the blood came creeping from the intruding lead
like ants on track.
Whether his deeper sleep lie shaded by the shaking of great wings
and the thoughts that hung the stars.
High pillowed on calm pillows of God's making
above these clouds these rains these sleets of lead
and these wind's scimitars
or whether yet his thin and sodden head confuses more and more with low mould
his hair being one with the grey grass of finished fields and wire scrags rusty old
who knows? who hopes? who troubles?
let it pass he sleeps.
He sleeps less tremulous less cold than we who wake and waking say Alas!