Song picture
"Til Foraaret," by Henrik Wergeland
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Song for chorus and orchestra, in Norwegian
jazz classical instrumental vocal opera orchestra chamber ballet
Artist picture
Composer for large-scale performance work, ballet and opera. Have written music for classical theatrical productions of Shakespeare, ("The Tempest," "The Twelft
Loren Lieberman is a native of Denver, Colorado, now living on the West Coast in California, where he is best known for his work as an actor in Classical and Shakespearean Theatre. He has a degree from Sonoma State University in Theatre Arts, and has been an Honor's Music Composition Student at the College of Marin, Santa Rosa Junior College, and at Sonoma State University. He has won an award for composition from the Redwood Empire Music Association. He has recently completed an opera in Russian, based on the novel by Alexander Solzhenitsyn, "Cancer Ward", (and of the same name), and is currently working on his fourth opera, based on the Classical Tragedy by Sophocles, "Oedipus the King," with a libretto in Ancient Greek. His interest in languages has shaped much of his artistic temperment, and he is self taught in Russian and Sanskrit, and has hopes to begin his next opera, Shakespeare's, "Romeo and Juliet," in Hindi.
Song Info
Genre
Classical • Opera
Charts
Peak #82
Peak in subgenre #5
Author
Henrik Wergeland/Masaru Yonemitsu
Rights
adhikapokoya 2011
Uploaded
May 30, 2011
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.7 MB • 128 kbps • 5:06
Story behind the song
My first composition with an updated Finale program, written in November - December of 2010, with some recent changes.
Lyrics
"To Spring" O Spring! Spring! save me! No one has loved you more tenderly than I! Your first pasture is more priceless than an Emerald at World's End. Your Anemones I call champions of the whole year, although I know, that the roses will come. Often their sinuous flames stretched out before me, and it was as though I was being loved by a Princess. I fled: but, Anemone, Daughter of Spring, had my faith. O witness then, Anemone, before whom I have fervently knelt! Witness, scorned dandelion and bright Coltsfoot, I have valued you above Gold, because you are the Children of Spring! Witness, swallows, that I did feast for you as for a lost child come home, because you were Messengers of Spring. I search and pray that no longer May clouds will shake needles down my chest from their cold blue openings. I witness, old Woods, who from Spring buds have grown, buds that I have counted more eagerly than Pearls! You witness, that I so often embraced with a son of sons reverence for his grandfathers. Ah yes, how often have I not wanted to mix my crown with yours and be immortal! Yes, Old One, a witness for me! You will be believed, and become as venerable as a Patriarch. Pray for me, I pour at your feet wine and doctor your brow with kisses. Everything of yours must be crowned fairest light green, Your leaves bursting forth everywhere. O Spring! the Old Man is hoarse, calling for me. He reaches heaven with his arms, and Anemone, your blue eyed Children, kneel and pray that you will save me - me, who love thee so tenderly. (Composer's translation)
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