To this we’ve come, that men withhold the world from men. No ship nor shore for him who drowns at sea. No home nor grave for him who dies on land. To this we’ve come, that man be born a stranger upon God’s earth, that he be chosen without a chance for choice, that he be hunted without the hope of refuge. To this we’ve come, and you to shall weep. If to men, not to God we now must pray, tell me, Secretary, tell me, who are these men?
If to them, not to God, we now must pray, tell me Secretary tell me. Who are these dark archangels? Will they be conquered? Will they be doomed? Is there one, any one behind those doors to whom the heart can still be explained? Is there one, any one who still may care? Have you ever seen the Consul? Does he speak, does he breathe? Have you ever spoken to him? Papers, papers… But don’t you understand? What shall I tell you to make you understand?
My child is Dead. John’s mother is dying. My own life is in danger. I ask you for help and all you give me is papers. What is your name? Magda Sorel. Age? 33. Color of eyes? Color of hair? Single or married? Religion and race? Place of birth, father’s name, mother’s name? Papers! Look at my eyes, they are afraid to sleep. Look at my hands, at these old woman’s hands. Why don’t you say something? Aren’t you secretaries human beings like us?
What is your name? Magda Sorel. Age? 33. What will your papers do? They can not stop the clock. They are too thin an armor against a bullet. What is your name? Magda Sorel. Age? 33. What does that matter? All that matters is that the time is late, that I’m afraid and I need your help. What is your name? This is my answer: My name is woman. Age: Still young. Color of hair: Grey. Color of eyes: The color or tears. Ocupation: Waiting…
Oh, that day will come, I know, when our hearts aflame will burn your paper chains. Warn the Consul, Secretary, warn him. That day neither ink nor seal shall cage our souls. That day will come. That day will come!
Eileen Farrell is a tremendous singer and I love her performance and magnificent dramatic voice.
For a complete contrast it is fascinating to hear lyrico spinto Virginia Zeani singing at the very extreme limit of her power, and in italian. The change of language gives an exotic south european quality to the piece as in "Occhi? Colore di lagrime. Professione? Attendere!"
I know of no finer aria composed since Turandot! Many thanks for this splendid posting.
To this we’ve come, that men withhold the world from men. No ship nor shore for him who drowns at sea. No home nor grave for him who dies on land. To this we’ve come, that man be born a stranger upon God’s earth, that he be chosen without a chance for choice, that he be hunted without the hope of refuge. To this we’ve come, and you to shall weep. If to men, not to God we now must pray, tell me, Secretary, tell me, who are these men?
puccinigirl 7 months ago
If to them, not to God, we now must pray, tell me Secretary tell me. Who are these dark archangels? Will they be conquered? Will they be doomed? Is there one, any one behind those doors to whom the heart can still be explained? Is there one, any one who still may care? Have you ever seen the Consul? Does he speak, does he breathe? Have you ever spoken to him? Papers, papers… But don’t you understand? What shall I tell you to make you understand?
puccinigirl 7 months ago
Comment removed
puccinigirl 7 months ago
My child is Dead. John’s mother is dying. My own life is in danger. I ask you for help and all you give me is papers. What is your name? Magda Sorel. Age? 33. Color of eyes? Color of hair? Single or married? Religion and race? Place of birth, father’s name, mother’s name? Papers! Look at my eyes, they are afraid to sleep. Look at my hands, at these old woman’s hands. Why don’t you say something? Aren’t you secretaries human beings like us?
puccinigirl 7 months ago
What is your name? Magda Sorel. Age? 33. What will your papers do? They can not stop the clock. They are too thin an armor against a bullet. What is your name? Magda Sorel. Age? 33. What does that matter? All that matters is that the time is late, that I’m afraid and I need your help. What is your name? This is my answer: My name is woman. Age: Still young. Color of hair: Grey. Color of eyes: The color or tears. Ocupation: Waiting…
puccinigirl 7 months ago
Oh, that day will come, I know, when our hearts aflame will burn your paper chains. Warn the Consul, Secretary, warn him. That day neither ink nor seal shall cage our souls. That day will come. That day will come!
puccinigirl 7 months ago
Eileen Farrell is a tremendous singer and I love her performance and magnificent dramatic voice.
For a complete contrast it is fascinating to hear lyrico spinto Virginia Zeani singing at the very extreme limit of her power, and in italian. The change of language gives an exotic south european quality to the piece as in "Occhi? Colore di lagrime. Professione? Attendere!"
I know of no finer aria composed since Turandot! Many thanks for this splendid posting.
CharlotteinWeimar 8 months ago
Recordings give no idea of the size of Farrell's voice. I saw her almost
half a century ago in Cavalleria Rusticana with Franco Correlli. A
thrilling performance.
Tsnx 4 the dramatic post.
rockgor 10 months ago