Friday, October 25, 2013

IN DEEPEST GRIEF
 (Final Chorus from The St. Matthew Passion)
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)
Wir setzen uns mit Traenen nieder
Und rufen dir im Grabe zu: 
Ruhe sanfte, sanfte ruh! 
Ruht, ihr ausgesognen Glieder! 
Euer Grab und Leichenstein 
Soll dem aengstlichen Gewissen 
Ein bequemes Ruhekissen 
Und der Seelen Ruhstatt sein. 
Hochst vergngt schlummern da die Augen ein. 

ENGLISH TRANSLATION

We sit down in tears 
And call to thee in the tomb: 
Rest softly, softly rest! 
Rest, ye exhausted limbs! 
Your grave and tombstone 
Shall for the unquiet conscience 
Be a comfortable pillow
And the soul’s resting place. 
In utmost bliss the eyes slumber there. 


~§~

"... if life had taken hope and faith from me, 

this single chorus would restore all." 


~ Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)

8 comments:

  1. In many ways, this piece of music matches my mood right now.

    ReplyDelete
  2. "A Christian ... has to learn how to be God’s man or woman of great worth and excellence in the midst of a multitude of meager and worthless things.

    "Never protest by saying, 'If only I were somewhere else!'

    "All of God’s people are ordinary people who have been made extraordinary by the purpose He has given them.

    "Unless we have the right purpose intellectually in our minds and lovingly in our hearts, we will very quickly be diverted from being useful to God" [Truth, Love, Principle, Intelligence, Spirit, Character and Life, itself]


    ~ Oswald Chambers - My Utmost for His Highest

    ReplyDelete
  3. Once upon that midnight fated,
    While I surveyed, satisfied and sated,
    Polling monographs obscure but intriguing,
    Statistics unknown theretofore.
    While I plotted, resolve undaunted,
    Suddenly, there came a visitor unwanted,
    And to this day I am haunted,
    By the way she taunted,
    Taunted from my chamber door,
    Is this just math you do as a Republican,
    Or is this real" she implored.


    So distinctly I remember,
    It was in that bleak November.
    I, and hosts who couldn't engender
    An evolved platform were seen no more.
    An acceptance of demographics,
    Requiring oratorical acrobatics,
    And a purge of religious fanatics,
    Banishing Romney, Ryan, and reason
    For the remainder of this,
    or any season,
    And all unnamed here for evermore.

    That public pulling back by your person,
    Of our Mephistophelean right wing curtain,
    Chilled me - filled me with a paranoid shiver anyone would abhor.
    Yes Hillary, there is a vast conspiracy,
    And in all sincerity,
    From the time I portrayed an Arkansas trooper,
    with guile and temerity,
    Bill was my agent provocateur
    Until his cover was blown on the Oval Office floor.

    In that void flowed a new contextualism,
    reconfigured as neo-conservatism,
    A policy of compassionate corporate colonialism
    on foreign shore.
    Within our nation building,
    With its glimmering golden gilding,
    Reposed horrors of extraordinary rendition
    in its dungeon hiding
    A moral schism neither questioned nor explored,
    And will not be now or evermore.

    At every junction
    for twenty years without compunction,
    I performed his executive function,
    Transforming his countenance to Presidential,
    From that alcoholic ne'er-do-well of yore.
    But there comes the day,
    all the blood is leeched away,
    And the parasite from its host must stray
    I sought out wealthy but dullard fellows,
    Promising I would be their bellows,
    Bellows for the coming inferno
    which would consume Obama for evermore.

    Separated from my symbiont
    but seeking knowledge,
    I made my annual CPAC pilgrimage,
    My naked ambition not incongruent
    With the Bible and American Flag I wore.
    For the mere cost of an insider trade,
    This promise Justices Roberts and Thomas made;
    "You will be brazenly delighted
    And personally most farsighted
    Should you emulate Citizens United
    When the next election cycle comes to the fore."

    I approached the next crossroads
    With care and cunning
    As both my profit and prestige
    were potentially stunning
    Only needing to convince the marks
    that I could fix the score.
    But could I peer into those hearts,
    Those vapid black holes,
    And tell the story any harks,
    ours being kindred souls,
    Removing liberal bias for those sharks, unskewing the polls
    Pretending it is only that, and nothing more.

    ReplyDelete
  4. "...if life had taken hope and faith from me, this single chorus would restore all."

    – Felix Mendelssohn (1809 – 1847)

    ReplyDelete
  5. What the Fuck are you talking about you ass hole conservative shit-head.?

    ReplyDelete
  6. If you had a proper answer to your rudely phrased question, Anonymous, you wouldn't be the unhappy, pathetically limited, intellectually challenged, morally blind, aesthetically ignorant, thoroughly disagreeable, desperately unattractive creature you show yourself to be.

    Be Curious, Not Judgmental and you may start to see the world -- and your place in it -- in a different, far more encouraging light.

    "Seek Ye first the Kingdom of God and His Righteousness, and all ... will be added unto you."

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  7. That's a most curious near-parody of The Raven, Miss Davis. It has some real potential. Did you write it, yourself?

    ReplyDelete
  8. I'm always disappointed, FT, to see how people invariably shy away from the best our species has produced, and seem eager to attach themselves to whatever seems most banal, trivial, gaudy, cheap and depressing.

    If you ever think you have found the answer, I'd love to hear it. I've given up trying.

    ----------> Katharine Heartburn

    ReplyDelete

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