Tres Sonetos De Amor

FOR BARITONE AND ORCHESTRA

Based on poems by Pablo Neruda

Details

Commissioned: Pacific Symphony Orchestra

Premiere: October 2, 2002; Pacific Symphony Orchestra; Carl St. Clair, conductor; Nathan Gunn, baritone

Instrumentation:2.2.2.2-4.2.2.1-timp-hp-str

Duration: 12’

Publisher: Schott Helicon Music Corporation (BMI)

Tres Sonetos de Amor was premiered by the Pacific Symphony Orchestra with Nathan Gunn, baritone, and Carl St. Clair conducting, on October 2, 2002. The European premiere was by the Orchestre Philharmonique de Strasbourg, with Hugh Russel, baritone, and Jan Latham-Koenig conducting, on March 27, 2003.

Press

Los Angeles Times (Los Angeles, CA) - Daniel Cariaga

"St. Clair elicited luscious lyricism and a wonderful palette of colorful, quiet playing from the orchestra in Picker's evocative, neo-Romantic songs... Picker's handsome settings...are likely to be a serious addition to the repertory: the music effortlessly amplifies the emotional ambience of the texts, and the three songs offer handsome contrasts."

Text

Tres sonetos de amor from Cien Sonetos de Amor by Pablo Neruda

III

Bitter love, a violet with its crown

of thorns in a thicket of spiky passion,

spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come

to conquer my soul? What road brought you to me?

Why did you pour your tender fire

so quickly, over my life’s cool leaves?

Who pointed the way to you? What flower,

what rock, what smoke showed you where I live?

Because the earth shook — it did —, that awful night;

then dawn filled all the goblets with its wine;

the heavenly sun declared itself;

while inside, a ferocious love wound around

and around me — till it pierced me with its thorns, its sword,

slashing a seared road through my heart

XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,

or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms

but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;

thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,

risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,

so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,

so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because

then the little drops of anguish will all run together,

the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift

into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;

may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.

Don’t leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you’ll have gone so far

I’ll wander all over the earth, asking,

Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

Originally published as Cien sonetos de amor. © Editorial Losada, S.A., Buenos Aires, 1960.

III

Áspero amor, violeta coronada de espinas,

matorral entre tantas pasiones erizado,

lanza de los dolores, corola de la cólera,

por qué caminos y cømo te dirigiste a mi alma?

Por qué precipitaste tu fuego doloroso,

de pronto, entre las hojas frías de mi camino?

Quién te enseño los pasos que hasta mi te llevaron?

Qué flor, qué piedra, qué humo mostraron mi morada?

Lo cierto es que trembló la noche pavorosa,

el alba llenó todas las copan son su vino

y el sol estableció su presencia celeste,

mientras que el cruel amor me crcaba sin tregua

hasta que lacerándome con espandas y espinas

abrió en mi corazón un camino quemante.

XVII

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio

o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:

te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,

secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva

dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,

y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo

el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,

te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:

así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,

sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,

tan cerca que to mano sobre mi pecho es mía,

tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.

No estés lejos de mí un solo día, porque cómo,

porque, no sé decirlo, es largo el día,

y te estaré esperando como en las estaciones

cuando en alguna parte se durmieron los trenes.

No te vayas por una hora porque entonces

en esa hora se juntan las gotas del desvelo

y tal vez todo el humo qu anda buscano casa

venga a matar aún mi corazón perdido.

Ay que no se quebrante tu silueta en la arena,

ay que no vuelen tus párpados en la ausencia:

no te vayas por un minuto bienamada,

porque en ese minuto te habrás ido tan lejos

que yo cruzaré toda la tierra preguntando

si voverás o si me dejarás muriendo.