Translated texts


[structured improv] 

This piece is performed as you enter the stairwell. 
You are encouraged to hum, sing, or improvise along with the drone. 

 Hor ch'è tempo di dormire
Tarquinio Merula (1595-1665)

Now that it's time to sleep,   
sleep, son, and don't cry;   
for the time will come soon enough   
when crying is needed.   

O my dearest, my heart:   
lullaby and sleep now   
Close those divine eyes   
as other babies do;   
for soon a dark veil   
will deprive the sky of light   

O my dearest, my heart . .   
Or take this milk   
from my immaculate breasts;   
for a cruel magistrate   
is preparing vinegar and gall for you.   

O my dearest, my heart . . .   
My love, let this breast   
be now a soft bed for you,   
before, with a loud voice, you give  
your soul to the Father, on the cross.   

O my dearest...   
Rest now your beautiful small limbs,   
so charming and delicate;   
for later, irons and chains   
will cause them bitter pains.   

O my dearest, my heart . .   
These hands and feet,   
which now you behold with zest and joy--   
alas, in how many ways   
will sharp nails pierce them!   
This graceful face,   
ruddier than a rose--   
spitting and slaps will defile it   
with torture and great suffering.   
Ah, with how much pain for you,   

O only hope of my heart,   
this head and this brow   
will be pierced by sharp thorns.   
For in this divine breast,   

O my sweet and delightful love,   
an impious traitorous spear   
will make a mortal wound.   
Sleep, therefore, my son,   
sleep then, my Savior;   
for later with joyful faces   
we'll see each other in Paradise.   
Now that you are sleeping, O my life,   

O complete joy of my heart,   
let all be quiet with pure zeal,   
even the earth and the heavens.   
Meanwhile, what shall I do?   
I will watch my dear,   
not letting my head bow   
as long as my baby sleeps.

Allison Clendaniel (b. 1990)
And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars:
And she being with child cried, travailing in birth, and pained to be delivered.

 Toccata VI
Alessandro Piccinini (1566- c. 1638)


Man that is born of woman
Henry Purcell (1659-1695)
Man that is born of a woman
hath but a short time to live, 
and is full of misery.
He cometh up, and is cut down like a flower; 
he fleeth as it were a shadow,
and ne'er continueth in one stay.

Wir glauben all' an einen Gott
Michael Praetorius (1571-1621)

We all believe in one true God,
Who created earth and heaven,
The Father, who to us in love
Hath the right of children given.
He both soul and body feedeth,
All we need He doth provide us;
He through snares and perils leadeth,
Watching that no harm betide us.
He careth for us day and night,
All things are governed by His might.

We all believe in Jesus Christ,
His own Son, our Lord, possessing
An equal Godhead, throne, and might,
Source of every grace and blessing.
Born of Mary, virgin mother,
By the power of the Spirit,
Made true man, our elder Brother,
That the lost might life inherit;
Was crucified for sinful men
And raised by God to life again.

We all confess the Holy Ghost,
Who sweet grace and comfort giveth
And with the Father and the Son
In eternal glory liveth;
Who the Church, His own creation,
Keeps in unity of spirit.
Here forgiveness and salvation
Daily come through Jesus' merit.
All flesh shall rise, and we shall be
In bliss with God eternally. Amen.

Totus tuus   
Henryk Górecki (1933-2010)       

I am completely yours, Mary,       
Mother of our Redeemer.       
Virgin Mother of God, blessed virgin,       
Mother of the world's Savior.       
I am completely yours, Mary!       




Toccata 8     
Giovanni Girolamo Kapsberger (c. 1580-1651)       



De profundis   
Josquin des Prez (ca. 1455-1521)       

Out of the deep have I called unto thee, O Lord: Lord, hear my voice.       

O let thine ears consider well: the voice of my complaint.       

If thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss: O Lord, who may abide it?       

For there is mercy with thee: therefore shalt thou be feared.       

I look for the Lord; my soul doth wait for him: in his word is my trust.       

My soul fleeth unto the Lord: before the morning watch, I say, before the morning watch.       

O Israel, trust in the Lord, for with the Lord there is mercy: and with him is plenteous redemption.       

And he shall redeem Israel: from all his sins.       

Funeral Ikos    
John Tavener (1944-2013)        

Why these bitter words of the dying, O brethren,        
which they utter as they go hence?        
I am parted from my brethren.        
All my friends do I abandon and go hence.        

But whither I go, that understand I not,        
neither what shall become of me yonder;        
only God who hath summoned me knoweth.        
But make commemoration of me with the song:        
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!        

But whither now go the souls?        
How dwell they now together there?        
This mystery have I desired to learn; but none can impart aright.        
Do they call to mind their own people, as we do them?        
Or have they forgotten all those who mourn them and make the song:        
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!        

We go forth on the path eternal, and as condemned,        
with downcast faces, present ourselves before the only God eternal.        
Where then is comeliness? Where then is wealth?        
Where then is the glory of this world?        
There shall none of these things aid us, but only to say oft the psalm:        
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!        

If thou hast shown mercy unto man, O man,        
that same mercy shall be shown thee there;        
and if on an orphan thou hast shown compassion,        
the same shall there deliver thee from want.        
If in this life the naked thou hast clothed,        
the same shall give thee shelter there, and sing the psalm:        
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!        

Youth and the beauty of the body fade at the hour of death,        
and the tongue then burneth fiercely, and the parched throat is inflamed.        
The beauty of the eyes is quenched then, the comeliness of the face all altered,        
the shapeliness of the neck destroyed; and the other parts have become numb,        
nor often say: Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!        

With ecstasy are we inflamed if we but hear that there is light eternal yonder;        
that there is Paradise, wherein every soul of Righteous Ones rejoiceth.        
Let us all, also, enter into Christ, that we may cry aloud thus unto God:        
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!        



Make Peace    
David Lang (b. 1957)        
if you can make peace    

make peace        

in the heavens        
in us        
in all the world          

make peace        


Meredith Monk (b. 1942)