music

SCORE

PROGRAM NOTE
This work is in four continuous sections: The first is the lover's knocking on the maiden's door; a sinewy, lilting introduction leads to a thick chordal setting over busy interlocking strings at “my lover drew back his hand from the latch.” The second section, the maiden's praise of her lover, is introduced by a truncated version of the lilting opening. It is a gentle setting out of which the women's voices throw little flourishes as the music becomes more and more vigorous. The third section, the lover's praise of the maiden, is again introduced by the lilting figure, this time extended. This section is sung by the basses only, with a pizzicato accompaniment recalling the interlocking strings from the second section. Speedy rising flute figures gradually take over the texture. The fourth section is a big homophonic chorale on the words “set me as a seal upon your heart."

TEXT
The Maiden
I was asleep but my heart was awake.
I heard my lover knocking: 

The Lover
Let me in, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one!
For my head is wet with dew, my curls with the mist of the night. 

The Maiden
My lover drew back his hand from the latch, and my heart beat wildly for him.
I rose to let my lover in; my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers flowed with myrrh upon the 
 handles of the bolt.
I opened to my lover, but he had slipped away and was gone . . . .
I looked for him, but could not find him; I called to him, but he did not answer me
My lover is fair and radiant, peerless among ten thousand.
His head is the finest gold; his locks are palm fronds, black as the raven.
His eyes are like doves beside flowing brooks: milk-white doves. 
His cheeks are like beds of spices, exhaling perfumes. 
His body is a pillar of ivory . . . .
His legs are marble columns, set in sockets of fine gold. 
His bearing is like the trees of Lebanon, lofty as cedars. 
His mouth is most sweet; all of him is pure delight. 

The Lover
How beautiful are your sandalled feet, O royal daughter . . . .
Your curved thighs are like jewels.
Your navel is a round goblet, brim-full of wine. 
Your belly is a heap of wheat, ringed with lilies. 
Your breasts are like two fawns - the twins of a gazelle. 
Your neck is like a tower of ivory.
Here is your figure, stately as a palm tree . . . .
Let me climb the palm tree and take hold of its branches! 
May your breasts be like clusters of grapes on the vine, 
the fragrance of your breath like apples, and your mouth like choice wine . . . 

The Maiden and the Lover
Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm, 
for love is as fierce as death, passion is as harsh as the grave; 
its flashes are raging fires, violent flames. 
Vast floods cannot quench love, nor rivers sweep it away. 

from The Song of Songs trans. T. Carmi