Difference between revisions of "Song of the Gardener (Michael Gray)"

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==Original text and translations==
 
==Original text and translations==
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{{Text|English|
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Oh my love wears a rose, from the garden of her birth
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In her hair, crimson sweet, like a breath from the earth.
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On the morning we met, we beheld a joyous sun
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Dawn embraced life anew.  Sighing soft, we were one.
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But the rose fled my hand, and in crimson fire scorned,
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Wept my soul for her love and our blesséd wedding morn
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I could wail  I could die.  In our garden flowers moaned
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Withering trees bowed their heads, yet the pain was my own.
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Oh she kissed many lips in the rose's fading light
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And each sin, scarlet stained, soiled her pure wedding white.
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I am her's though betrayed.  I am lover evermore.
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Passion's truth cannot yield.  Heaven's songs thus emplore.
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And my love flamed to save from the evil she had worn.
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Faith redeem, once renew.  Gladly I bear her thorn.
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So I bleed.  So I die.  In my garden I am hung
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With my rose's tender thorns and at last we are one.
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-Leslie K. Gray}}
  
 
[[Category:Sheet music]]
 
[[Category:Sheet music]]
 
[[Category:Modern music]]
 
[[Category:Modern music]]

Revision as of 03:24, 28 October 2018

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  • (Posted 2018-10-28)   CPDL #51610:   
Editor: Michael Gray (submitted 2018-10-28).   Score information: Letter (landscape), 6 pages, 194 kB   Copyright: CC BY NC ND
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Song of the Gardener
Composer: Michael Gray
Lyricist: Leslie K. Graycreate page

Number of voices: 3vv   Voicing: SAB
Genre: SacredPassion

Language: English
Instruments: Piano

{{Published}} is obsolete (code commented out), replaced with {{Pub}} for works and {{PubDatePlace}} for publications.

Description:

External websites: http://www.graymichael.com

Original text and translations

English.png English text

Oh my love wears a rose, from the garden of her birth
In her hair, crimson sweet, like a breath from the earth.

On the morning we met, we beheld a joyous sun
Dawn embraced life anew. Sighing soft, we were one.

But the rose fled my hand, and in crimson fire scorned,
Wept my soul for her love and our blesséd wedding morn
I could wail I could die. In our garden flowers moaned
Withering trees bowed their heads, yet the pain was my own.

Oh she kissed many lips in the rose's fading light
And each sin, scarlet stained, soiled her pure wedding white.

I am her's though betrayed. I am lover evermore.
Passion's truth cannot yield. Heaven's songs thus emplore.

And my love flamed to save from the evil she had worn.
Faith redeem, once renew. Gladly I bear her thorn.
So I bleed. So I die. In my garden I am hung
With my rose's tender thorns and at last we are one.

-Leslie K. Gray