Tag Archives: String quartet

In shallows

Turner Tribute. Copyright © Isobel Smerdon 2015
Turner Tribute. Copyright © Isobel Smerdon 2015
(with permission)


Play In shallows. Copyright © 2015 Pathematica

إن شاء الله

I have lived on oceans;
Dwelt where stars and sunrise
Fill the vast unfathomed deep.
I have seen rare wonders:
Soaring birds; and giants,
Softly rolling in their sleep.

I stormed raging tempests,
Pitching as the waves fell
Crashing down on battered mast.
I crossed ice-packed waters,
Chasing frozen mountains,
Caught before the Arctic blast.

Now I face tomorrow,
Drawn to one last mooring
Lashed behind the iron maid.
Sent to rock in shallows,
Trimmed with halting memories,
Listing, while my
Dreams and sunsets
Slowly fade …
Into shade.

My love

Grumpy Lady. Copyright © Isobel Smerdon 2015
Grumpy Lady. Copyright © Isobel Smerdon 2015
(with permission)


Play My love. Copyright © 2015 Pathematica

My love is like an iridescent hue—
A coruscating haze of orange, red and blue;
A parlous transformation certain photons rue
That face destructive interference.

My love is like a bowl of comely fruit,
Whose shiny, dimpled, waxen pericarps impute
The bitter mesocarp, that hints the more astute
Should give sour endocarp due clearance.

My love owes beauty, cold and statuesque,
In graceful poise evoking perfect arabesque
With classic virtues, recrudescing Romanesque,
In worse excesses than Octavian.

My love has feathers in her coiffeured hair—
A monstrous, non-cladistic, bird-brained hybrid pair,
Her rostral pole chimæric with the derrière
Of some denuded ratite avian.

Love is kind, so some would say,
Love falls blind where lust holds sway,
Love makes victims look away
From hard truths plain to those not trapped.

Love entices and cajoles;
Love hides dark pernicious goals;
Love makes fools of desperate souls
Whose caution, sense and hope are sapped.

My love is like a lake of shining gold
Resplendent as the blazing sunset shades unfold
Concealing mysteries the tempting waters hold
That trap its victims in the deep

My love is like a cool enticing draft
Perfected by the grim apothecary's craft:
A nectar-sweet concoction, pleading to be quaffed
That brings about some witless sleep.

My love is like a rich melodious air
Provoking passion in the hearts that dare
Then lures the stricken to the siren's lair
To meet with fate upon the rock.

My love is like a velvet honeyed trap
That works its deadly art upon the rising sap
But hides its deathly purpose till the cold jaws snap
And bleak conclusion turns the lock.

Devotional for Litha

SummerSolstitalSunrise2015

Play Apotheosis. Copyright © 2014 Pathematica

Climbing the sacred mound,
Joined with the solemn band;
Glimpses of rising ground,
Red-hued from flickering brand;
Night-scented herbs abound,
Bruised on the mellow land;
Stumbling, with muted sound,
Gain the summit;
Gather at the
Crown …

Rumours of dawn appear
Over the distant fell;
Family and friends draw near,
Caught in the binding spell;
Skies over outlands clear,
Fanfares from songbirds swell;
Sunrise, at last, is here—
Summer solstice!
Light of heaven
Blazing down …

Blessings fall; one and all,
On this new midsummer's day.
Life's in thrall at the call
From the world of men and fey.
Skies are blue, woods are green,
Nature murmurs, as the
Fruitful goddess nurtures,
Fishes dream in the stream,
Meadows buzz and children play.

Jack in green, in his prime,
Basking on the summer lawn;
Faerie kind, marking time,
Dancing with the summer fawn.
Fields are lush, kine well-fed,
Nature's bounties falling,
Nature's heralds calling:
Hark, the thrush, overhead,
Minstrel, to the Greenwood born!

At this feast of the sun,
Linger memories of dark winters gone;
As before, so anon:
Sleepless as the ocean,
With its tides in motion,
Seasons pass—time moves on,
While the pale king sleeps in Avalon,
Solstice fires are burning,
Silver wheels are turning,
Mysteries bid the journey run.

Days that waxed now must wane—
So the Oak King must abjure his reign.
Water falls—fire's bane;
Distant drumming as the
Holly King is coming.
Tempests pass; hills remain—
So the Oak King will return again.
Dance, now, to the drummer;
Live the song of summer,
Lend your voice to earth's refrain.

GreenwoodF

————————————
Homage to JS Bach, WA Mozart,
GB Gardner, DED Valiente

An it harm none, do what you will.
Pax vobiscum

Gráinne's Lament

From Tóraíocht Dhiarmada agus Gráinne.  

Play Gráinne's Lament. Copyright © 2015 Pathematica

Falling through the void,
Each last futile hope destroyed.
Crushed within the breast,
Every breath as laboured as the rest.
Contorted by the strain,
Every moment, rent with endless pain,
Discarded on the wasteland
Of this unforgiving Earth.

While contemptuous stars still burn
And indifferent spheres still turn,
Nothing will forestall
All the woe the Fates decree shall fall,
So, leave me here to lie
With my ill-used love, ordained to die,
Abandoned with our barren dreams,
Bereft of any worth.

 

Fugue for Ēostre

Play Fugue for Ēostre. Copyright © 2015 Pathematica

Waking softly from the dreaming,
Mist around the headland streaming,
Morning star in half-light gleaming;
So the rite begins …

Breaching the distant tor,
Bathing the heathered moor,
Filling the valley floor;
Ēostre alights once more.

New dawns are breaking,
New love is waking,
New buds are aching;
New life in making.

Dawnlight glowing,
Ichor flowing,
Seedlings growing;
Green shoots showing.

Gentle Ēostre, now returning,
Conjure joy from heartfelt yearning;
With your votive bonfires burning,
Let your Magick grow.

Gentle Ēostre, now caressing
Moor and Greenwood, send your blessing,
Every vale and hill addressing;
Touch the earth below.

Soon the boxing hares come leaping,
Soon the restless chicks come cheeping,
Soon the newborn eyes come peeping;
Soon the oak reborn.

Half in life and half in barrow,
Half lies tilled and half lies fallow,
Half in light and half in shadow;
Alban Eiler dawn.

Drawn from the valley floor,
Raised through the velvet moor,
Reaching the highest tor;
Earth's pulse restored once more.

OstaraByJohannesGehrts

Chasing the Mabon

A brief retelling, set to music, of one theme from the tale of Culhwch and Olwen,
which is one of the earliest recorded legends of King Arthur, taken from the Mabinogion.
"Mabon ap Modron" means "Great son of the great mother" in Brythonic Celtic.

Play Chasing the Mabon. Copyright © 2014 Pathematica

From the labours of y Modron comes the blessing of a son
And the son is clasped upon the breast until three days are gone.
From the shelter of that warm embrace,
The son is lost without a trace,
To Ysbaddadon's darkest place,
Where ruthless schemes are spun.

With the running of the river and the falling of the rain
So the year begins to crumble and the light begins to wane
And a hero suckled with the swine
Is cursed to seek, through love divine,
A daughter of the giant's line,
To find the son again.

From the bailey of a castle in the shadow of a crag,
So the noble Culhwch ventures forth beneath King Arthur's flag,
And, in search of counsel, comes to see
The Ouzel bird of Cilgrwri
Who bade the hero, from his tree,
To seek the ancient Stag.

And descending from the gullies where the mountain breezes howl,
So the pilgrims gain the Greenwood where the fearsome Bleddin prowl,
And, beside a twisted Derwen tree,
The ancient Stag of Rhendefre
Advises Culhwch, patiently,
To find the wizened Owl.

Ever deeper in the forest, so the questing knights repair,
Ever forwards to the heartland of the Druid and the Bear,
Where the wise old Owl of Cwn Cawlwyd,
Stock-still, as though from oakwood hewed,
With knowing stare, tu-whit tu-whooed
Locate the Eagle's lair.

To the summit of the mountain where the mighty north wind blows,
So the faithful brothers follow where the gallant hero goes,
And the Eagle of Gwernabwy,
That soars above the highest tree,
Avows to Culhwch, solemnly,
That Salmon surely knows.

To the waters of the Hafren, where the pool of Llyn Llyw hides,
In the hazel grove of wisdom, where the oldest creature bides,
So the ancient Salmon, dreaming there,
Arises from his pool to bear
The persevering band to where
The Mabon now resides.

Deep in Ysbaddadon's dungeons, so would Culhwch’s loyal band
Find the prison cell of Mabon where the giant’s ramparts stand.
With the Mabon free to roam again
And Ysbaddadon caught and slain,
The brave young Culhwch so would gain
The white-pathed Olwen’s hand.

 

Nunc appropinqua

Processional
March of the May Queen

Nunc appropinqua
Ecce sponsa pulchra.
Laete, gaudemus
Et cantabimus.

Play Nunc appropinqua. Copyright © 2013 Pathematica

 

Fantasia for Samhain

Play Ghosts. Copyright © 2013 Pathematica
 
Come! As the winter nights draw
Nigh and the crackling sparks drift
High, where the bonfires' green logs
Sigh, as the homeward cows pass
SamhainSquashBy, and the winter ravens
Cry at the darkening of the
Sky, while departing songbirds
Fly, in the autumn's last
Goodbye, like fading heartbeats;
Feel their fading heartbeats.

Come now, sisters and
Brothers of old as the
Slowly turning tesseract
Unfolds upon the season.
Open your hearts and
Embrace the Samhain incantation:
Darkness is stealing,
The shadows annealing.

Come now, mothers and
Fathers, untold, as the
Slowly turning book of life
Unfolds to vent its reason.
Open your souls and
Receive our blessings on your presence;
Sharing the feeling,
The rift of death healing.

Come! Reach out for love,
Longingly sought,
Drifting through the shimmering spectral
Bloom, as our worlds conjoin.
Come! While stars above
Channel our thoughts,
Hope shall find us,
Love shall bind us.

Come! At this sacred time of year,
When the winter nights draw near
And ancestral thoughts ring clear,
As uncharted paths cohere
From the other worldly sphere,
When the dim veils disappear
And our treasured ghosts appear,
Love assuaging doubt and fear,
Like soothing heartbeats;
Feel their soothing heartbeats come.

We walked the road together

Play We walked the road together. Copyright © 2013 Pathematica

_______

Is someone there?
Yes I am here
And I am here,
And I am here.
We're not alone, friends, so let us
Walk the road together.

.....

Come all ye travellers on life's road
And share, with me, the heavy load;
The seasons change as days unfold;
We'll walk the road together.

And in the spring, when journeys start,
We'll greet new friends with joyful heart;
Embraced by love, we'll play our part;
We'll walk the road together.

Come all ...

And in the summer, warm and fair,
We'll see our friendships blossom there.
With joy and laughter in the air,
We'll walk the road together.

Come all ...

And when the autumn nights grow long,
We'll find our way with joyful song;
The weak shall journey with the strong;
We'll walk the road together.

Come all ...

And when the winter veils the land,
Remember those who took our hand
And journeyed with our joyful band;
We walked the road together.

Come all ye travellers on life's road
Who shared, with me, the heavy load,
The seasons changed as we grew old;
We walked the road together.

Lughnasadh

Celebrate the first of the corn;
The light of heaven fills the sacred morn.
Lughnasadh, see Tailtiu praised,
Our hearts and voices raised.

Dedicate the sheaf at the beinn,
That Tailtiu's vision fill our hearts again.
Lughnasadh, see Tailtiu praised,
Our hearts and voices raised.

Gather, there, the bilberry feast
Exalting the banquet in the light from the east.
Lughnasadh, see Tailtiu praised,
Our hearts and voices raised.

Consecrate the sacred mound,
Sharing the bounty with the hallowed ground.
Lughnasadh, see Tailtiu praised,
Our hearts and voices raised.

Let the Áenach Tailteann stand,
A part of our story in this blessèd land.
Lughnasadh, see Tailtiu praised,
Our hearts and voices raised.

Light the fires, encircle the well
And live every legend that the bards retell.
Lughnasadh, see Tailtiu praised,
Our hearts and voices raised.

Break the fast with lunastain;
The fruit of the barley holds the sun and the rain.
Lughnasadh, see Tailtiu praised,
Our hearts and our voices raised.

Share the joy handfastings bring,
That love shall prosper in an endless ring.
Lughnasadh, see Tailtiu praised,
Our hearts and voices raised.