Sonnet 104 (2011)

Sadie Sonntag, mezzo-soprano; Jesus Contreras, electronics; Shakespeare, lyrics.

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure and no pace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion and mine eye may be deceived:
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred;
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.

Category:

Music

Tags:

• Milton Babbitt
• John Cage
• Serialism
• Electronic Music
• experimental
• making
• poem
• poetry
• broadway
• word
• gothic
• inspirational
• Shakespeare