• Coursing Through the Still Green
  • -
  • Judith Shatin
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"Coursing Through The Still Green"

 by Judith Shatin

Written for solo flute and inspired by the poetry of Wang Wei,

a Chinese poet living in the eighth century

Walking by the bank of Yellow Flower Brook

I chase a blue stream

Turning and twisting down the mountain

The path is not long

Water splashes from one stone to another

Coursing through the still green

Deep inside the pine forest

Ripples radiate from water chestnut weeds

Reeds reflect in the clear water

My heart is quiet like a still pool

I want to stay on this flat stone

And cast my fishing line forever

(The poem can be found in the book Walking to Where the River Ends by Wang Fang yu, Suzanne Graham Storer, and Mary de G. White, published in 1980 as an Archon Book of the Shoestring Press.).

  • This Floating World
  • -
  • Edie Hill
00:00 / 00:00

"This Floating World" by Edie Hill

Written for solo flute and commissioned by flutist Linda Chatterton.  Each movement was inspired by the corresponding haiku written by Basho:

 

I.    Skylark

 

       Midfield,

       attached to nothing,

       the skylark singing.

 

II.   Harvest Moon and Tide

 

       Harvest moon—

       the tide rises

       almost to my door.

 

III.  Winter Solitude

 

       in a world of one color,

       the sound of wind

 

IV.  Petal Shower

 

       A petal shower

       of mountain roses,

       and the sound of the rapids.

 

V.   A Wild Sea

 

      A wild sea –and flowing out toward Sado

      Island,

      the Milky Way

 

       5 haiku from THE ESSENTIAL HAIKU: 

       VERSIONS OF BASHO,

       BUSSON & ISSA, EDITED AND WITH AN

       INTRODUCTION by ROBERT HASS.

       Copyright © 1994 by Robert Hass

       Published by ECCO PRESS,

       100 West Broad St. Hopewell,

       New Jersey 08525

 

 

  • Three Women
  • -
  • Beth Denisch
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"Three Women" by Beth Denisch

Arranged for flute and piano from

Denisch’s song cycle One Blazing

Glance which chronicles important

moments in a woman's life, from

young girlhood to being older than a

grandmother.  Each movement was

inspired by the following poems. Featuring Amanda Roberts, piano.

 

I.   Miriam's Ballad

 

     Inspired by Miriam’s Dance

     by Rosie Rosenzweig

 

     There is a song I hear,

     Resting and rocking the warm air.

     It enters me from out of old volcanic rock

     As dense as the dark past;

     I know it like my own blood running unseen

     In the hidden chambers of my soul;

     It resounds as thunder, appears as fire,

     Becomes a pillar, clouds,

     And wish-fulfilling stars.

     With a skip and jangle, I follow

     The trope, rising, swept dry bywaves.

     Where I move

     To the music that I am,

     Have been,

     And always will be.

 

II.   Rachel's Song

 

      Inspired by My Baby Has No Name Yet

      by Kim Nam-Jo

 

     My baby has no name yet;
     like a new-born chick or a puppy,
     my baby is not named yet.
     What numberless texts I examined
     at dawn and night and evening over again!
     But not one character did I find
     which is as lovely as the child.
     Starry field of the sky,
     or heaps of pearls in the depth.
     Where can the name be found, how can I?
     My baby has no name yet;
     like an unnamed bluebird or white flowers
     from the farthest land for the first,
     I have no name for this baby of ours.
     (translated by Ko Won)

 

III.  Ruth's Dance

 

      Inspired by Facial by Allison Joseph

 

     Remember all the hands that loved your skin,
     the soft plains of your cheeks, your jaw and

     chin,
     and think of them, the way they ached to

     stroke
     each inch, in need of all your face evokes.
     Caress each wrinkle with a fingertip,
     glide down the slope of nose, the curve of lip.
     Each line that you embrace reveals a life
     that no one else can know-each joy or strife,
     each moment that your face can

     map for years the
     brows, the folds, the scars, the pores,

     the fears,
     the knowledge in your eyes, your regal head,
     the selves you've painted on, then rinsed to

     shed.
     Be proud of all the progress you can trace
     by touching every contour of your face.



 

 

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