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"Letter of Dismissal," Endre Ady
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Song for Tenor and Orchestra, (Strings and Winds), in Hungarian.
jazz classical instrumental vocal opera orchestra chamber ballet
Artist picture
Composer for large-scale performance work, ballet and opera. Have written music for classical theatrical productions of Shakespeare, ("The Tempest," "The Twelft
Loren Lieberman is a native of Denver, Colorado, now living on the West Coast in California, where he is best known for his work as an actor in Classical and Shakespearean Theatre. He has a degree from Sonoma State University in Theatre Arts, and has been an Honor's Music Composition Student at the College of Marin, Santa Rosa Junior College, and at Sonoma State University. He has won an award for composition from the Redwood Empire Music Association. He has recently completed an opera in Russian, based on the novel by Alexander Solzhenitsyn, "Cancer Ward", (and of the same name), and is currently working on his fourth opera, based on the Classical Tragedy by Sophocles, "Oedipus the King," with a libretto in Ancient Greek. His interest in languages has shaped much of his artistic temperment, and he is self taught in Russian and Sanskrit, and has hopes to begin his next opera, Shakespeare's, "Romeo and Juliet," in Hindi.
Song Info
Genre
Classical • Opera
Charts
Peak #144
Peak in subgenre #6
Author
Endre Ady/Masaru Yonemitsu
Rights
adhikapokoya 2010
Uploaded
November 18, 2010
Track Files
MP3
MP3 6.0 MB • 128 kbps • 6:32
Lyrics
Letter of Dismissal Let break the charm that broke the hundredth time. You are dismissed once more and for the very last if you believed that I should always keep you or that there was still need to be dismissed. Stricken, a hundred times, I throw at you the ample, lordly rope of my forgetting. Now clad yourself against the greater cold, now clad yourself because I pity us for the great shame of the unequal strife, for your humiliation and all else. In a word, by now I pity only you. How long and how in secret it has been like this. To gild your fate how many times there sprang from chatting grace the lovely Leda psalms, concocted and conveyed for sake of art for art. I never did receive or take away. I gently handed you the heresy of kisses that in mind I kissed with others, of love acts that in mind I loved with others; and now I thank you for as many embraces, I thank you for as many one-time Ledas as any male may have the power to thank when stepping over an old and worn-out kiss. How long since I have tried to look for you in sand dunes of the past and troubled present. On your future's slavish womanish path how long ago I had dismissed you from my mind. How long I searched for nothing but to bequeath you something from myself and my unique poetic, trumped-up charges that in your orphaned love you might find solace and claim you also were, not only he who could not bear the weight alone and hung some ornaments upon a woman. From my proud breast which is insatiable and great I wanted to behold a gentle fall and not the small revenge of a forsaken female who in her fury waits in ambush with some man, and not the mocking ot your poor and little self, for I had placed my Croesus mark on you and gave you cause for faith that you belonged to me and that your passing should take place unseen. I presented you the largess of my embraces that you would find a joy in them, and you were nothing but a little question mark until with my arrival you became fulfilled. Will you flutter like a dessicated flower from the leaves of a long tranquil prayer book or will you flounce about and wear to rags your purchased nimbus - this despotic, sombre yoke - and my self-idolizing prayers which stammer after all for some deserving woman? I ask the destiny not to let you presume to cross my starry fate. Whatever swallows you, a flood or dross, you live through me because I saw you, but long ago you ceased to be because I ceased to see you.
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