Op. 28 - Les Saisons (The Seasons)

Le temps a laissé son manteau...
(c) 2023 Paul Scherer
Laura María Gómez Alzate - Mezzo Soprano

Time has left its coat
Of wind, cold and rain,

And dressed in embroidery,
Shining sun, clear and beautiful.
There is neither beast nor bird
That in its jargon does not sing or shout:

“Time has left its coat!

Of wind, cold and rain,
River, fountain and stream|Wear, in pretty livery,
Silver drops, silverware;
Everyone gets dressed again.

Time has left its coat
Of wind, cold and rain,
And dressed in embroidery,
Shining sun, clear and beautiful.

Chaleur

(c) 2023 Paul Scherer
Laura María Gómez Alzate - Mezzo Soprano

Everything shines, turns blue, rustles,
The day is searing like a fruit 
That the sun cracks et cooks.
Every little leaf is hot
And shimmers in the air where 

A fragrance like plum lingers.
The sun like water rains down
On the whole land, yellow and blue

Sizzling and oscillating a little.
An infinite pleasure of living
Rushes forward from the drunken forest
Of pink wheat like copper.

Chanson D’Automne
(c) 2023 Paul Scherer
Laura María Gómez Alzate - Mezzo Soprano

When a sighing begins
In the violins
Of the autumn-song,
My heart is drowned
In the slow sound
Languorous and long

Pale as with pain,
Breath fails me when
The hours toll deep.
My thoughts recover
The days that are over,
And I weep.

And I go
Where the winds know,
Broken and brief,
To and fro,
As the winds blow
A dead leaf.

Chanson Pour Les Enfants L'hiver
(c) 2023 Paul Scherer
Laura María Gomez Alzate, Mezzo Soprano

In the winter’s night
A big white man is running
It is a snowman
With a wooden pipe
A big snowman
Chased by the cold

He arrives in town
Seeing some light
He feels reassured.
In a small house,
He entered without knocking.

And to warm up
Sits on the red wood stove
And suddenly disappears.
Leaving only his pipe
In the middle of a puddle
Leaving only his pipe
And also his old hat.

Op. 27 - Les Temps du Jour (The Times of the Day

Midi (Mid Day)
(c) 2022 Paul Scherer
Molly Clementz, Mezzo Soprano

Midday, king of summer, spread out over the plain, Falls in silver sheets from the heights of the blue sky
All is silent.  The air flames and burns breathlessly; The land is drowsy in its robe of fire.

The spread of light is immense, and the fields lack any shade, And the spring is dried up, where the herds used to drink;
The distant forest, whose borders are shaded, Sleeps there, unmoving, in a weighty repose.

Alone, the great fields of ripe corn, like a gilded sea, Roll away in the distance, disdaining sleep, Peaceful children of the sacred soil, They fearlessly drain the cup of sunlight.

At times, like a sigh from their burning souls,
From the heart of the heavy ears which murmur together, A majestic and slow wave in the corn. Awakes and goes to die on the dusty horizon.

Man, if with a heart full of joy or bitterness
You passed at midday in the sunlit fields,
Flee, nature is empty and the sun consumes it: Nothing lives here, nothing is sad or joyful.

Not far away, some white cattle, lying in the grass, Dribble slowly on their thick dewlaps,
And with their proud and languishing eyes, follow. The interior dream which they will never fulfilled

Come!  The sun speaks to you in sublime words, Let yourself be absorbed endlessly in its implacable flame; And return with slow steps to the mean and petty cities,
Your heart steeped seven times in divine nothingness.

Nox (de Poèmes antiques)
(c) 2022 Paul Scherer
Molly Clementz, Mezzo Soprano

On the slope of the mountains the breezes appeased The undulating trees incline to sleep;
The silent bird falls asleep in the dews,
And the star gilded the foam of the blue waves.

At the edge of the ravines, on the wild heights, A soft vapor erases the paths;
The moon sadly bathes the black leaves;
The ear no longer hears human whispers.

But on the sand in the distance sings the divine Sea,
And from the high forests moaned the great voice,
And the sonorous air, in the skies that the night illuminates, Carries the song of the seas and the sigh of the woods.

Rise, holy rumors, superhuman words
Slow and gentle maintenance of Earth and Heaven! Ascend, and ask the serene stars
If it is to reach them an eternal path.

O seas, o pensive woods, pious voices of the world, You answered me during my evil days;
You have soothed my infertile sadness,
And in my heart too you sing forever!