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The branches drip softly, and a damp delicate fragrance rises from the earth. Strings present a long-drawn melody with a melancholy lilt while instrumental colour is enriched by a rippling piano motif and a dance-like clarinet theme. Then, very remotely, wind instruments begin to sound short, capricious figures, as though the beautiful and quaint denizens of antique woods were awakening from their winter sleep, and were still calling to one another through the brakes and long distances of rainy leaves.

The light spreads rapidly, and soon the whole forest is astir. The nymphs stretch their languid arms in the copses, and fauns and satyrs, and bizarre half-human shapes skip with mad antics down the deep glades. The sun rises on a glittering and dazzling earth. With a crescendo and excited flute fanfares suggesting the rising of the sun, the second movement really the second part of the introduction leads straight into the exuberant Full day which lasts as long as the first two movements together. And all the season of snows and sins, The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins.

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Here in Woodland love atmospheric instrumental solos include a solo violin, half-echoed by playful flute and a prominent, luscious clarinet solo as well as piquant oboe, while harps and piano add another layer to the texture. If anything could wake the lovers it must surely be Maenads , the boisterous finale capped with blazing brass, featuring a turbulent rout of roguish satyrs and other members of the Dionysus cult.


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Gradually elements from earlier parts of the composition become mingled into the thematic weft of this musical daphnephoria. It is as though the whole of nature participated in the careless and restless riot of youth and sunlight. Idylle de printemps Frederick Delius This short orchestral piece is a fairly early work of Delius, which lay unplayed and unpublished for many years after his death.

The autograph score was long in the possession of Sir Thomas Beecham and only became available for performance in the s. Most of the orchestral works that Delius composed in his twenties were not performed in his lifetime. This was a difficult period for him, battling against parental opposition in his determination to become a composer.

It was also a period of wandering, partly in the service of the family wool business, and partly in ventures of his own. He had visited Norway where he made the friendship of Grieg and Sweden; managed an orange grove in Florida where he studied with a local music teacher ; taught music at a college in Virginia; lived for a time in New York; and finally managed to study in Germany, at the Leipzig Conservatory.

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Though it is an early work, Delius had already produced a substantial and effective orchestral score in his Florida Suite , composed in and performed in Leipzig to an audience of just two! He had also written several other orchestral pieces such as the Serenade for violin and orchestra, Sleigh Ride and Marche Caprice , so he was certainly well-versed in handling orchestral forces. Though the work is short, it is notable that he manages to include several different episodes and incidents in it.

The opening folk-like fragment becomes the basis of a brief quicker section with harp accompaniment, after which the music builds to a climax and subsides once again, with a hint of dance-rhythm, to a further exploration of the main theme, until the work comes to a contented close.

Throughout, the mood is contemplative, taking delight in a sense of the natural world; and though in one sense Idylle de printemps is a derivative work, in another it contains many hints of the mature Delius. Not often played as an independent work, it is actually the finale of his four-movement suite North Country Sketches. For Delius, the recurrence of Nature in the turn of the seasons was the force that he believed in with almost religious intensity the evocation of the return of Spring would be the final revelation in his wartime Requiem. The meadows are evidently illustrated in the evocative oboe arabesques of one of the early episodes.

Il s'en venge? Ton nom? Le silence est l'hommage.

Tremblez, c'est le meilleur. O femme, en les aimant on peut les apaiser. Que dis-tu de l'amour? Le brigand Barabbas est en prison. Son heure Approche, car il faut que le meurtrier meure; C'est du moins ce que dit le peuple. C'est Psyphax, charpentier de croix. Au lieu de l'essaim d'or errant dans les jasmins, L'oiseau de proie, affreux, vole aux carcasses mortes. Et souriant, mais non sans quelque ennui, L'homme qui prend l'argent fait un salut servile, Met le sac sous sa robe et rentre dans la ville. Psyphax travaille.

Or l'homme qui venait arrive. Il montre un sceau. Il crache sur le livre ouvert, et dit : - Pourceau, Je suis du temple. Il tremble; le rayon rend visite au fumier. Mort sur le meurtrier et mort sur le voleur! Leur ombre immense couvre encor les races neuves. Il reprit : - Ce tronc d'arbre a des traces de lierre.

Quel est celui qui vient par le frais chemin vert? Il est jeune, il est doux. O vents, chassez l'hiver. L'amante court vers l'amant Il me chante et je le chante; Oh! L'eau coule, le ciel est clair. Son coeur, tout en dormant, m'adorait; douce gloire! O nuages, elle est ce que j'aime le mieux. Je la parfumerai de nard. La nuit mes yeux joyeux font peur au loup hagard. Femmes, croyez-vous qu'elle sorte? Elle reste au logis et tourne son fuseau. Et je l'appelle Venez voir quelqu'un de superbe! Venez voir l'amoureux qui vaincrait les colosses!

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Qu'est-ce que des amants? Profitez des portes mal closes, Je voudrais bien savoir comment je m'y prendrais Pour ne pas adorer son rire jeune et frais, Venez, mon lit est plein de roses! C'est lui qui me fait gaie ou sombre; il est mon deuil, Il est ma joie; et je l'adore; Il est beau. Pourquoi fais-tu languir celle qui t'aime tant? Pourquoi perdre une heure? Il la vit; l'herbe en fleur leur venait aux genoux. Elle court. Il est nuit, et personne ne passe. Une autre femme, grave, est debout sut le seuil. Elle a l'air de garder cette porte. Je viens.

Il s'agit de sa vie.


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Me voici. On creuse l'ombre autour de ton fils. Je te dis Que je sens fourmiller les serpents enhardis. C'est un calculateur de fraude et de profit; C'est un monstre. Le temps presse. On avait dans les fours Cuit le pain sans levain qu'on vend aux carrefours. Christ y vint, murmurant tout bas : Que Dieu m'assiste! Ne faites rien trop vite.

S'il faut mourir pourtant, que la mort vienne! C'est bien. Que le tombeau pour vous s'ouvre, j'y descendrai. C'est fini. Vos jardins ont l'odeur des charniers insalubres.

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Tout croule. Ne livrez point ma doctrine aux querelles. Quand je ne serai plus vous verrez de grands signes. L'homme n'a rien, ni sac plein d'or, ni coin de terre, Qu'il puisse regarder ici-bas comme sien.