Emily Morris, narrator
Pocket Garden
Unfortunately, there are many kids who have no garden but they all certainly have a drawer. We, the children who didn’t have to cry so much, have hidden for the others a couple of true stories, very funny, guaranteed new, and of course tiny little. If you let this round disc turn always in the same way, it could, all by itself, allow you to find in your drawer what the grown-ups were always looking for in their garden.
It cooks all that with little dots, bubbles, notes, spots, dashes, holes, laughter and sighs, and many other funny little noises that serious instruments can make in order to bring to life all the things you ever dreamed of. Is that music? Anyway, not what grown-ups call music. Although swift and sure of itself, never bothering with fingerings, it doesn’t ever sing loud in order to know if it is in tune.
Made of laughter and sunshine, never caring about tomorrow, even it would dry out when pressed between the pages of a catalog.
If you can keep a secret, I’ll tell you something: Hidden in every piece of this noisy pie is forbidden fruit – green and sour – like apples from the neighbors’ tree that we like so much and the fools allow to get ripe. Leave it up to the big people, who are always worrying about what’s “good for you” to find out what’s wrong with that.
I. Come on in Kids!
Quick, quick! We are in a hurry. Don’t line up! We don’t like to walk in one after another, we all want to race through at the same time – especially if the door is small. Don’t worry, at that speed, no one will be left behind!
II. Mister Wind lets the Tulips sing
Here are some flowers – as beautiful as any – that sing just as well as others, even without fancy Latin names. As to the wind, we couldn’t find any better, it’s a wind like any other.
III. The Duck’s Sermon
There are truths that gain through being sung especially when sung by such a truthful voice. It’s a big thing not to be less important isn’t a big thing.
IV. Here is a Riddle
Have you guessed it? Anyhow if you haven’t got it, you’re not far from it.
V. Old Fir Tree, You’re too far from the Sky
The sky, the dream of all the fir trees, is too far away from ours.
Turned old, he doesn’t hear any more its call.
His urge to reach the sky weakens.
His green darkens, and his needles fall.
VI. The Beetles’ Dance
Come on beetles, bring your friends!
Cross your legs then all join hands.
One step left and two steps right,
one behind if you don’t mind.
Spread your wings and stomp your feet,
clap your hands on every beat.
Yell on three and jump on four,
buzzing less while whirling more.
One more round before you go –
don’t forget to bow down low.
VII. Fish’s Night Song
“One even sings at night!”
“Who could it be”
“It’s a frog.”
“What foolishness!”
“Perhaps a crab?”
“And why not two?”
“Then who is it?”
“if it is not a trout, it’s certainly a carp.”
“A-carp-that-sings-at-night ???”
“It only sings at night, by day it shuts up tight.”
VIII. Crazy Ride on a Hobbyhorse
Lucky Luke, the famous cowboy who usually rides on his horse “Jolly Jumper”, gave us the honor of letting us watch a fantastic performance in our garden. He rode on a hobbyhorse from our stable – the most thorough thoroughbred Arabia produced.
IX. Hedgehog, where are You?
Prickles are gone. How terrible! Leave me alone! Prickles, where are you? Do you hear me crying? No! I don’t want anything else. I don’t want any of your toys. How can you understand? You were never little like me. My heart has left me. A sigh bigger than my chest beats in its place. My pain is as large as my love. You can’t turn that around. If growing up means discovering new joys as you say, then I want to stay as small and as stupid as my Prickles. Without him, my whole world, the only one I knew, the only one I loved, is gone.
X. Green Prayer
Our Father, who art in heaven! What could I tell you that You do not know? If You forgive me, that I pray again for a favor, tell Prickles that I will forgive him too. He should not be afraid to come back. I promise You I will never leave him alone again. And with the permission of the god of hedgehogs, I will teach him all of the prayers, even those that I have forgotten. Let me watch over him, as You watch over me. Thank you!
XI. Quacks of Thanks: One Hedgehog turns into Two
It can’t be! A miracle!
It’s not true. Here is Prickles!
It’s not possible. But it’s true.
How exciting!
The leaves are whispering. “It is he.”
But careful – he’s not alone.
Bonjour, Madame.
I greet you both.
You must not prick, Madame Prickles, suggest the roses, turning on their flower lights, the glow is spreading, the stones are danc-ing, the dust coughing, the tears are glistening, the colors are burning. What a joy! The celebration soars in a storm of pink snow. How good You are, my good good God. Are you really grown-up?
XII. Rain in the Sprinkling Can!
As rain is the true feat of the garden, we ordered a special one for you today. The springing, splashing drops open the dance, inviting everyone to join in. It rains. It pours. It gushes. There’s water everywhere. Listen to it slurp. The rain spreads its cloak of freshness over the waking earth.
The fine, soft threads of rain made everything wet: Curious feet; too long pants; the proud mustaches: and all sorts of other dusty things to be found in a thirsty garden.
All of a sudden the sprinkling can, himself a rainmaker, rises up and wants nothing to do with such an unruly shower. He rides upon the waves; yelling, screaming, and venting his rage. But not for long. A fat wave with his white gloves points the way to Mother Valley where all the games of water end.
XIII. That’s All
That’s it, children.
See the drawer is dry before you close it.
Let’s get out as quickly as we came in, through the same gate – if it’s still there.
Celibidache. Der Taschengarten. SWE Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra. Booklet Editor: Gerhard Forck.
