Pablo Neruda
The impetus for this piece was the idea of combining a ‘pure’ sound from nature with voice and a single instrumental line in a kind of triptych. In this case rain, a narrated poem with male voice and viola.
Created as part of my Masters studies I hope to explore this seam of thought more in the future.
Salud, we called out every day,
to every single person,
it is the calling card
or false kindness
and of sincerity.
It's the bell we are known by:
here we are, salud!
You hear it clearly, we exist.
Salud, salud, salud,
to this one and that one
and the other one,
to the poisoned knife
and to the assassin.
Salud, recognize me,
we are equal and do not like each other,
we love each other and are not equal,
each of us with a spoon,
with our own sad story,
haunted by being and not being:
we all need to have so many hands,
and so many lips to smile,
salud!
time has already passed,
Salud
to getting to know nothing.
Salud
to devoting ourselves to ourselves,
it anything remains of us,
of ourselves,
Salud!
Salud, decimos cada día,
a cada uno,
es la tarjeta de visita
de la falsa bondad
y la verdadera.
Es la campana para reconocernos:
aquí estamos, salud!
Se oye bien, existimos.
Salud, salud, salud,
a éste y al otro, a quién,
y al cuchillo, al veneno
y al malvado.
Salud, reconocedme,
somos iguales y no nos queremos,
nos amamos y somos desiguales,
cada uno con cuchara,
con un lamento especial,
encantado de ser o de no ser:
hay que disponer de tantas manos,
de tantos labios para sonreír
salud!
que ya no queda tiempo.
Salud
de enterarse de nada.
Salud
de dedicarnos a nosotros mismos
si es que nos queda algo de nosotros,
de nosotros mismos.
Salud!