Daniel Perlongo

SATB; Mvmts I and III with piano accompaniment, II a cappella

I. by an anonynous 12th Century Italian poet
Down the broad way do I go,Young and unregretting,rap me in my vices up,Virtue all forgetting,Greedier for all delightThan heaven to enter in:Since the soul in me is dead,Better save the skin.Sit you down amid the fire,Will the fire not burn you?Come to Pavia, will youJust as chaste return you?Pavia, where Beauty drawsYouth with finger-tips,Youth entangled in her eyes.Ravished with her lips.
II. by Rosaly DeMaios Roffman
You do not have to win prizes.You do not have to fast in the woodsor have your sins whipped out of you.You have only to understand how perfectyou are through your own imperfections.what it means to keep your eyes on eyes,what it means to let someonespeak to you without speaking.Sing your sorrow and I'll sing minewhile the old moon and low miststravel over the mountains; beach-plumsform new patches near the ocean,barn swallows hang on wires overhead.No matter how secret you are,the world has room for your shasow,for breathing, for the tree whispering--whoever you may be this morningpour yourself into a gold vesselthink of yourself as a barn swallowmaking perect circles above the mimosa.
III. by Rosaly DeMaios Roffman
When I cut my finger with a knife,I yell "My finger, my finger"and I yell "knife, knife."And I don't cry "husband"And I don't cry "mother"And I don't predict the endof viola-playing in the parkor on the radioWhen you hold my finger under water,I cry "My finger, my finger"and I cry "hold, hold" and "water, water"and I don't call husband or motherAnd I don't have dreams of you bandaging fingers in heavenor pouring glasses of waterfor everyone in painor on the streetWhatever I yell or cry or dreamis only to reassure me I live:finger, finger,knife, knife, hold, hold

This is an archival item from ACA's catalog, and not currently available for purchase.