I

Our eyes are holden that we cannot see things that stare us in the face, until the hour arrives when the mind is ripened; then we behold them, and the time when we saw them not is like a dream.

Ralph Waldo “Emerson, Spiritual Laws” (in Essays)

II

The first words got polluted
Like river water in the morning
Flowing with the dirt
Of blurbs and the front pages.
My only drink is meaning from the deep brain,
What the birds and the grass and the stones drink.
Let everything flow
Up to the four elements,
Up to water and earth and fire and air.

Seamus Heaney, from the Romanian of Marin Sorescu, in The Spirit Level

Ill

But real action is in silent moments.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Spiritual Laws” (in Essays)

IV

The Cloud-Flower Lullaby

In the north the cloud flower blossoms,
And now the lightning flashes,
And now the thunder clashes,
And now the rain comes down!
A-a-aha, a-a-aha, my little one.

In the west the cloud flower blossoms,
And now the lightning flashes,
And now the thunder clashes,
And now the rain comes down!
A-a-aha, a-a-aha, my little one.

In the east the cloud flower blossoms,
And now the lightning flashes,
And now the thunder clashes,
And now the rain comes down!
A-a-aha, a-a-aha, my little one.

Songs of the Tewa (collected and translated by Herbert Joseph Spinden)

V

The last train has stopped

The last train has stopped at the last platform. No one is there
To save the roses, no doves to alight on woman made of words.
Time has ended. The ode fares no better than the foam.
Don't put faith in our trains, love. Don't wait for anyone in the crowd.
The last train has stopped at the last platform. But no one
Can cast the reflection of Narcissus back on the mirrors of night.
Where can I write my latest account of the body's incarnation?
It's the end of what was bound to end! Where is that which ends?
Where can I free myself of the homeland in my body?
Don't put faith in our trains, love. The last dove flew away.
The last train has stopped at the last platform. And no one was there.

Mahmoud Darwish, Fewer Roses (translated by Munir Akash and Carolyn Forche)

VI

We are the photometers,(...) goldleaf and tinfoil that measure the accumulations of the subtle element.
We know the authentic effects of the true fire through every one of its million disguises.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Spiritual Laws” (in Essays)

Dramaturgy by Aleksi Barriere

Text by Aleksi Barrière, Ralph Waldo Emerson and Seamus Heany
Music by Kaija Saariaho
Copyright © 2014 by Chester Music Limited
International Copyright Secured   All Rights Reserved
Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard LLC