By William Shakespeare (1546 ~ 1616)
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd:
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thous owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:--
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Rosaline
By Thomas Lodge (1567 ~ 1601)
Like to the clear in highest sphere
Where all imperial glory shines,
Of selfsame colour is her hair
Whether unfolded, or in twines:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her eyes are sapphires set in snow,
Resembling heaven by every wink;
The Gods do fear whenas they glow,
And I do tremble when I think
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud
That beautifies Aurora's face,
Or like the silver crimson shroud
That Phoebus' smiling looks doth grace;
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her lips are like two budded roses
Whom ranks of lilies neighbour nigh,
Within which bounds she balm encloses
Apt to entice a deity:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Her neck like to a stately tower
Where Love himself imprison'd lies,
To watch for glances every hour
From her divine and sacred eyes:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her paps are centres of delight,
Her breasts are orbs of heavenly frame,
Where Nature moulds the dew of light
To feed perfection with the same:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
With orient pearl, with ruby red,
With marble white, with sapphire blue,
Her body every way is fed,
Yet soft in touch and sweet in view:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Nature herself her shape admires;
The Gods are wounded in her sight;
And Love forsakes his heavenly fires
And at her eyes his brand doth light:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan
The absence of fair Rosaline,
Since for a fair there's fairer none,
Nor for her virtues so divine:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were mine!
Like to the clear in highest sphere
Where all imperial glory shines,
Of selfsame colour is her hair
Whether unfolded, or in twines:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her eyes are sapphires set in snow,
Resembling heaven by every wink;
The Gods do fear whenas they glow,
And I do tremble when I think
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud
That beautifies Aurora's face,
Or like the silver crimson shroud
That Phoebus' smiling looks doth grace;
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her lips are like two budded roses
Whom ranks of lilies neighbour nigh,
Within which bounds she balm encloses
Apt to entice a deity:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Her neck like to a stately tower
Where Love himself imprison'd lies,
To watch for glances every hour
From her divine and sacred eyes:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Her paps are centres of delight,
Her breasts are orbs of heavenly frame,
Where Nature moulds the dew of light
To feed perfection with the same:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
With orient pearl, with ruby red,
With marble white, with sapphire blue,
Her body every way is fed,
Yet soft in touch and sweet in view:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Nature herself her shape admires;
The Gods are wounded in her sight;
And Love forsakes his heavenly fires
And at her eyes his brand doth light:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan
The absence of fair Rosaline,
Since for a fair there's fairer none,
Nor for her virtues so divine:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!
Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were mine!
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Summer Concert
My friend and I held a summer concert this past July, and here are the video from that concert. The program for this concert is as follows:
Sonata for Piano and Violin in G Major, Kv. 301 by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
- Allegro Spirito
- Allegro
Sonata for Piano and Violin in D Major, Op. posth. 137, Nr. 1, D. 384 by Franz Schubert
Sonata for Piano and Violin in D Major, Op. posth. 137, Nr. 1, D. 384 by Franz Schubert
- Allegro Molto
- Andante
- Allegro Vivace
From Alt-Wiener Tanzweisen by Fritz Kreisler
- Schön Rosmarin
- Liebesleid
Song without Words, Op. 62, No.1 by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy arranged by Fritz Kreisler
Praeludium and Allegro In the Style of Pugnani by Fritz Kreisler
From Spanish Dances, Op. 22 by Pablo Sarasate
- Romanza Andaluza
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Random tech and Science news that caught my interest this week (May 7 ~ May 15)
- Google, Google and more Google at Google I/O conference: Google releases Android 3.1, Google unveils ChromeOS laptops, Google launches Music Beta, and Google announces Android@Home.
- Sony finally restores PSN: With PS3 system update 3.6.1, Sony begins phased restoration of PSN.
- Finally, I have a sad new to pass on. Dr. Willard Boyle, Nova Scotia's own Nobel Laureate, passed away on May 7, 2011. He was 86.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
That time of year thou may'st in me behold
By William Shakespeare (1546 ~ 1616)
That time of year thou may'st in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang:
In me thous see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by-an-by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest:
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by:
-- This thous perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
That time of year thou may'st in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang:
In me thous see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by-an-by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest:
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by:
-- This thous perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Revolutions
By William Shakespeare (1546 ~ 1616)
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And time that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow;
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:---
And yet, to times in hope, my verse shall stand
Praising Thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And time that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow;
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:---
And yet, to times in hope, my verse shall stand
Praising Thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Weekly Piano Post - Prelude, Op. 28, No.1 by Frederic Chopin
One of my friend asked me if I was going to learn Goldberg Variation and post a video of it. Taking that request to heart, I would like to try to post a selection from from a single piece consisting of several short movements (such as Goldberg Variation) or a collection of short pieces (such as Schumann's Kinderszenen) each week. For my first collection, I have chosen, Chopin's Prelude. Hope you enjoy them.
P.S. Given that a month isn't enough time for me to learn a piece (as evident in my monthly posting), the performances on these postings are obviously not going to be very polished. My apology in advance for that.
P.S. Given that a month isn't enough time for me to learn a piece (as evident in my monthly posting), the performances on these postings are obviously not going to be very polished. My apology in advance for that.
Random tech news that caught my interest this week (April 18 ~ April 24)
- I think my birthday is coming up soonish: ASUS to release EeePad Transformer on April 26th.
- RIP, Ohga San: Former Sony CEO and CD pioneer, Norio Ohga, passes away.
- On other Sony news, how am I going to watch Netflix on my TV now?: Playstation Network down due to intrusion.
- Speaking of failure, Amazon Cloud fails: Amazon Cloud outage causes service disruption to a number of websites.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Since Brass, Nor stone
By William Shakespeare (1546 ~ 1616)
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack!
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back,
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O! none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack!
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back,
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O! none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Time and Love
By William Shakespeare (1546 ~ 1616)
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
The rich proud cost of outworn buried age;
When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed,
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
And the firm soil win of the water main,
Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;
When I have seen such interchange of state,
Or state itself confounded to decay,
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate---
That Time will come and take my Love away:
---This thought is as a a death, which cannot choose
But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
The rich proud cost of outworn buried age;
When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed,
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
And the firm soil win of the water main,
Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;
When I have seen such interchange of state,
Or state itself confounded to decay,
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate---
That Time will come and take my Love away:
---This thought is as a a death, which cannot choose
But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Love's Farewell
By Michael Drayton (1563~1631)
Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part, --
Nay I have done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath,
When his pulse failing, passion speechless lies,
When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And innocence is closing up his eyes,
-- Now if thous would'st, when all have given him over,
From death to life thou might'st him yet recover!
Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part, --
Nay I have done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath,
When his pulse failing, passion speechless lies,
When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And innocence is closing up his eyes,
-- Now if thous would'st, when all have given him over,
From death to life thou might'st him yet recover!
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Diaphenia
By Henry Constable (1562~1613)
Diaphenia like the daffodowndilly,
White as the sun, fair as the lily,
Heigh ho, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as my lambs
Are beloved of their dams;
How blest were I if thou would'st prove me.
Diaphenia like the spreading roses,
That in thy sweets all sweets encloses,
Fair sweet, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as each flower
Loves the sun's life-giving power;
For dead, thy breath to life might move me.
Diaphenia like to all things blessed,
When all thy praises are expressed,
Dea joy, how I do love thee!
As the birds do love the spring,
Or the bees their careful king:
Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me!
Diaphenia like the daffodowndilly,
White as the sun, fair as the lily,
Heigh ho, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as my lambs
Are beloved of their dams;
How blest were I if thou would'st prove me.
Diaphenia like the spreading roses,
That in thy sweets all sweets encloses,
Fair sweet, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as each flower
Loves the sun's life-giving power;
For dead, thy breath to life might move me.
Diaphenia like to all things blessed,
When all thy praises are expressed,
Dea joy, how I do love thee!
As the birds do love the spring,
Or the bees their careful king:
Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night
By Samuel Daniel (1562~1619)
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
Brother to Death, in silent darkness born,
Relieve my languish, and restore the light;
With dark forgetting of my care return.
And let the day be time enough to mourn
The shipwreck of my ill-adventured youth:
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn,
Without the torment of the night's untruth.
Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires,
To model forth the passions of the morrow;
Never let rising Sun approve you liars,
To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow:
Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain,
And never wake to feel the day's disdain.
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
Brother to Death, in silent darkness born,
Relieve my languish, and restore the light;
With dark forgetting of my care return.
And let the day be time enough to mourn
The shipwreck of my ill-adventured youth:
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn,
Without the torment of the night's untruth.
Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires,
To model forth the passions of the morrow;
Never let rising Sun approve you liars,
To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow:
Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain,
And never wake to feel the day's disdain.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
by Christopher Marlowe (1564~1593)
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals
There will I make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle
A gown made of the fines wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold.
A belt of straw and ivy buds
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my Love.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat
As precious as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move
Then live with me and be my Love.)
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals
There will I make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle
A gown made of the fines wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold.
A belt of straw and ivy buds
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my Love.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat
As precious as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move
Then live with me and be my Love.)
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Ecossaise by Ludwig van Beethoven
About the piece:
In key of G major, it was apparently composed in around 1810. It was originally written for wind instrument and was transcribed to Piano by Czerny, a student of Beethoven and a famous piano pedagogue, in 1834. (see here)
According to Classical Archive and Wikipedia, an Ecossiase is a dance piece in the style of Scottish dance.
Other music composed by Beethoven around 1810:
In key of G major, it was apparently composed in around 1810. It was originally written for wind instrument and was transcribed to Piano by Czerny, a student of Beethoven and a famous piano pedagogue, in 1834. (see here)
According to Classical Archive and Wikipedia, an Ecossiase is a dance piece in the style of Scottish dance.
Other music composed by Beethoven around 1810:
- Egmont Overture
- Piano Sonata No. 26, Op. 81a - Les Adieux
- String Quartet No. 11, Op. 95 - Serioso
- Bagatelle No. 25, WoO 59 - Fur Elise
Major political event(s) of 1810:
- Napoleon, having divorced Empress Josephine, marries Marie Louise, Duchess of Parma.
Art scene in 1810:
Monday, March 14, 2011
Spring
By Thomas Nash (1567~1601)
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug-jug , pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Spring! the sweet Spring!
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug-jug , pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Spring! the sweet Spring!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Cupid and Campaspe
By John Lyly (1554 ~ 1606)
Cupid and my Campaspe play'd
At cards for kisses; Cupid paid:
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how);
With these, the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple on his chin;
All these did my Campaspe win:
And last he set her both his eyes-
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?
Cupid and my Campaspe play'd
At cards for kisses; Cupid paid:
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how);
With these, the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple on his chin;
All these did my Campaspe win:
And last he set her both his eyes-
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Like as a huntsman after weary chase
By Edmund Spenser (1553 ~ 1599)
Like as a huntsman after weary chase,
Seeing the game from him escap'd away,
Sits down to rest him in some shady place,
With panting hounds beguil'd with their prey:
So after long pursuit and vain assay,
When I all weary had the chase forsook
The gentle deer returned the selfsame way,
Thinking to quench her thirst at the next brook.
There she beholding me with milder look,
Sought not to fly, but fearless still did bide:
Till I in hand her yet half trembling took,
And with her own good will her firmly tied.
Strange thing me seemed to see a beast so wild,
So goodly won with her own will beguiled.
Like as a huntsman after weary chase,
Seeing the game from him escap'd away,
Sits down to rest him in some shady place,
With panting hounds beguil'd with their prey:
So after long pursuit and vain assay,
When I all weary had the chase forsook
The gentle deer returned the selfsame way,
Thinking to quench her thirst at the next brook.
There she beholding me with milder look,
Sought not to fly, but fearless still did bide:
Till I in hand her yet half trembling took,
And with her own good will her firmly tied.
Strange thing me seemed to see a beast so wild,
So goodly won with her own will beguiled.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Two Little Pieces by Mozart and Haydn
For the latest survey of the music from 50 Greats of the Piano, I have played two little pieces by Mozart and Haydn. From Mozart we have Menuett in G-major, and from Haydn, we have Little Serenade.
W. A. Mozart's Menuett in G-major is the last piece by Mozart on this book. It is rather a short and sweet dance music, and I have redacted all the repeats in this piece, making it even shorter.
From Joseph Haydn, we have "Little Serenade." In my humble opinion, Haydn is one of the most neglected composer, and this book, in my mind, only reinforces that notion. This rather inconsequential piece, albeit charming, is the only piece by Haydn on this book.
W. A. Mozart's Menuett in G-major is the last piece by Mozart on this book. It is rather a short and sweet dance music, and I have redacted all the repeats in this piece, making it even shorter.
From Joseph Haydn, we have "Little Serenade." In my humble opinion, Haydn is one of the most neglected composer, and this book, in my mind, only reinforces that notion. This rather inconsequential piece, albeit charming, is the only piece by Haydn on this book.
꽃 두고(On flower)
By 최남선 (1890 ~ 1957)
나는 꽃을 즐겨 맞노라.
그러나 그의 아리따운 태도를 보고 눈이 어리어,
그의 향기로운 냄새를 맡고 코가 반하여,
정신 없이 그를 즐겨 맞음 아니라
다만 칼날 같은 북풍을 더운 기운으로써
인정없는 살기를 깊은 사랑으로써
대신하여 바꾸어
뼈가 저린 이름 밑데 눌리고 피도 얼릴 눈구덩에 파묻혀 있던
억만 목숨을 건지고 집어 내어 다시 살리는
봄바람을 표장(表章)함으로
나는 그를 즐겨 맞노라.
나는 꽃을 즐겨 보노라.
그러나 그의 평화 기운 머금은 웃는 얼굴 홀리어
그의 부귀 기상 나타낸 성한 모양 탐하여
주착 없이 그를 즐겨 봄이 아니라
다만 겉모양의 고운 것 매양 실상이 적고
처음 서슬 장한 것 대개 뒤끝 없는 중 오직 혼자 특별히
약한 영화 구안(苟安)치도 아니고, 허다 마장(魔障)겪으면서도 굽히지 않고
다만 목슴을 만들고 늘어 내어 깊이 전할 바
씨 열매를 보유한을
나는 그를 즐겨 보노라.
I welcome blossoming flower.
Not for her charming mien,
Not for her sweet smell,
That I forget the troubles of the world.
But for the fact that it brings warm air instead of stinging northern wind
And that fills heart of deep love instead of unkindness.
For the fact that its blossoming signifies of the coming of Spring,
A season that raises those hundred millions,
who have been buried under cruel snow out of the ground.
For this. I welcome her with open heart.
I gaze at blossoming flower.
Not for her seductive face with peaceful smile,
Not for her tempting look promising prosperity,
That I forget my conviction.
Though it has no real use other than its beauty,
she doesn't seek for temporary comfort, nor does she yield to dangerous obstacles.
And she procreates and multiplies new life and spread them afar
Through the seeds and fruits stored within her.
For this, I gaze at her with all my heart.
나는 꽃을 즐겨 맞노라.
그러나 그의 아리따운 태도를 보고 눈이 어리어,
그의 향기로운 냄새를 맡고 코가 반하여,
정신 없이 그를 즐겨 맞음 아니라
다만 칼날 같은 북풍을 더운 기운으로써
인정없는 살기를 깊은 사랑으로써
대신하여 바꾸어
뼈가 저린 이름 밑데 눌리고 피도 얼릴 눈구덩에 파묻혀 있던
억만 목숨을 건지고 집어 내어 다시 살리는
봄바람을 표장(表章)함으로
나는 그를 즐겨 맞노라.
나는 꽃을 즐겨 보노라.
그러나 그의 평화 기운 머금은 웃는 얼굴 홀리어
그의 부귀 기상 나타낸 성한 모양 탐하여
주착 없이 그를 즐겨 봄이 아니라
다만 겉모양의 고운 것 매양 실상이 적고
처음 서슬 장한 것 대개 뒤끝 없는 중 오직 혼자 특별히
약한 영화 구안(苟安)치도 아니고, 허다 마장(魔障)겪으면서도 굽히지 않고
다만 목슴을 만들고 늘어 내어 깊이 전할 바
씨 열매를 보유한을
나는 그를 즐겨 보노라.
I welcome blossoming flower.
Not for her charming mien,
Not for her sweet smell,
That I forget the troubles of the world.
But for the fact that it brings warm air instead of stinging northern wind
And that fills heart of deep love instead of unkindness.
For the fact that its blossoming signifies of the coming of Spring,
A season that raises those hundred millions,
who have been buried under cruel snow out of the ground.
For this. I welcome her with open heart.
I gaze at blossoming flower.
Not for her seductive face with peaceful smile,
Not for her tempting look promising prosperity,
That I forget my conviction.
Though it has no real use other than its beauty,
she doesn't seek for temporary comfort, nor does she yield to dangerous obstacles.
And she procreates and multiplies new life and spread them afar
Through the seeds and fruits stored within her.
For this, I gaze at her with all my heart.
Monday, January 24, 2011
One day I wrote her name upon the stand...
By Edmund Spenser(1553~1599)
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
but came the tide, and made my pains his prey.
Vain man, said she, that does in vain assay,
A mortal thing so to immortalize,
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wiped out likewise.
Not so, (quod I) let baser things devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
My verse your virtues rare shall eternize,
And in the heavens write your glorious name.
Where whenas death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew.
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
but came the tide, and made my pains his prey.
Vain man, said she, that does in vain assay,
A mortal thing so to immortalize,
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wiped out likewise.
Not so, (quod I) let baser things devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
My verse your virtues rare shall eternize,
And in the heavens write your glorious name.
Where whenas death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
엄마야 누나야
By 김소월
Mom and sister, let us live by the river.
By the yard are the shining golden sands.
By the back door, oak leaf sings.
Mom and sister, let us live by the river.
엄마야 누나야 강변 살자.
뜰에는 반짝이는 금모래 빛.
뒷문 밖에는 갈잎의 노래.
엄마야 누나야 강변 살자.
My Reading:
Music by 안성현 played on 단소:
Mom and sister, let us live by the river.
By the yard are the shining golden sands.
By the back door, oak leaf sings.
Mom and sister, let us live by the river.
엄마야 누나야 강변 살자.
뜰에는 반짝이는 금모래 빛.
뒷문 밖에는 갈잎의 노래.
엄마야 누나야 강변 살자.
My Reading:
Music by 안성현 played on 단소:
It is most true...
By Sir Philip Sydney (1554~1586)
It is most true that eyes are form’d to serve
The inward light and that the heavenly part
Ought to be King, from whose rules who do swerve,
Rebels to nature, strive for their own smart.
It is most true, that what we call Cupid’s dart
An image is, which for ourselves we carve,
And, fools, adore, in temple of our heart,
Till that good god make church and churchmen
starve.
True, that true beauty virtue is indeed,
Whereof this beauty can be but a shade,
Which elements with mortal mixture breed.
True that on earth we are but pilgrims made,
And should in soul up to our country move:
True, and yet true that I must Stella love.
It is most true that eyes are form’d to serve
The inward light and that the heavenly part
Ought to be King, from whose rules who do swerve,
Rebels to nature, strive for their own smart.
It is most true, that what we call Cupid’s dart
An image is, which for ourselves we carve,
And, fools, adore, in temple of our heart,
Till that good god make church and churchmen
starve.
True, that true beauty virtue is indeed,
Whereof this beauty can be but a shade,
Which elements with mortal mixture breed.
True that on earth we are but pilgrims made,
And should in soul up to our country move:
True, and yet true that I must Stella love.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Loving in truth...
By Sir Philip Sydney (1554~1586)
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of
my pain,
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make
her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe;
Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain,
Oft turning others' leaves to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burned
brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's
stay;
Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's
blows,
And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my
way.
Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my
throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
'Fool,' said my Muse to me, 'look in thy heart and
write.'
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of
my pain,
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make
her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe;
Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain,
Oft turning others' leaves to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burned
brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's
stay;
Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's
blows,
And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my
way.
Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my
throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
'Fool,' said my Muse to me, 'look in thy heart and
write.'
진달래꽃 (Azalea Flower)
By 김소월 (1902 ~ 1934)
My Translation
If you can no longer look at me
and must leave me,
I will let you go without a word
From Yak-San* of Yeongbyeon,
I will pick an armful of Azalea Flower
and splash on your way.
On each step you take,
those flowers on the road,
gently break them on your way.
I won't shed a tear even if I die
* A mountain located in Yeongbyeon county of what is now North Korea.
Original
나 보기가 역겨워
가실 때에는
말없이 고이 보내 드리오리다.
영변에 약산
진달래꽃
아름 따다 가실 길에 뿌리오리다.
가시는 걸음 걸음
놓인 그 꽃을
사뿐히 즈려 밟고 가시옵소서.
나 보기가 역겨워
가실 때에는
죽어도 아니 눈물 흘리오리다.
My Translation
If you can no longer look at me
and must leave me,
I will let you go without a word
From Yak-San* of Yeongbyeon,
I will pick an armful of Azalea Flower
and splash on your way.
On each step you take,
those flowers on the road,
gently break them on your way.
If you can no longer look at me
and must leave me,
I won't shed a tear even if I die
* A mountain located in Yeongbyeon county of what is now North Korea.
Original
나 보기가 역겨워
가실 때에는
말없이 고이 보내 드리오리다.
영변에 약산
진달래꽃
아름 따다 가실 길에 뿌리오리다.
가시는 걸음 걸음
놓인 그 꽃을
사뿐히 즈려 밟고 가시옵소서.
나 보기가 역겨워
가실 때에는
죽어도 아니 눈물 흘리오리다.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Movements from Mozart Sonatas
My apologies to all readers of this blog for my hiatus. It has been a hectic few months due to moving and all. I wouldn't be able to post as frequent as I wish until after March, but I will try to publish a new post each week until then.
The latest pieces from 50 Greats for the Piano are two famous movements from Mozart Sonatas. A "typical' of Mozart piano pieces, these two movements are deceptively difficult to play.
First of these is the first movement from Mozart's Sonata No. 15, Kv. 545. The movement is in a Sonata form with themes that sounds rather simple and pleasant, which I find instantly recognizable as a Mozart even if you haven't heard it before. The difficulty, I find, is in getting the light touch that is require to convey the right mood of the piece, as well as maintaining the tempo consistent throughout the movement.
Second piece is the famous Turkish march, the third movement of Mozart's Piano Sonata No. 11, Kv. 331. According to Wikipedia, this movement is based on the sound of Turkish Janissary band. Being an ARCT-level (Associate of Royal Conservatory of Music), it may be one of the most difficult pieces in 50 Greats for the Piano . Also, it is in somewhat atypical Rondo form. It is ostensibly in ABA form with Coda, but the placement of the repeat signs and common second part in both A and B sections give the piece a very exotic feeling.
The latest pieces from 50 Greats for the Piano are two famous movements from Mozart Sonatas. A "typical' of Mozart piano pieces, these two movements are deceptively difficult to play.
First of these is the first movement from Mozart's Sonata No. 15, Kv. 545. The movement is in a Sonata form with themes that sounds rather simple and pleasant, which I find instantly recognizable as a Mozart even if you haven't heard it before. The difficulty, I find, is in getting the light touch that is require to convey the right mood of the piece, as well as maintaining the tempo consistent throughout the movement.
Second piece is the famous Turkish march, the third movement of Mozart's Piano Sonata No. 11, Kv. 331. According to Wikipedia, this movement is based on the sound of Turkish Janissary band. Being an ARCT-level (Associate of Royal Conservatory of Music), it may be one of the most difficult pieces in 50 Greats for the Piano . Also, it is in somewhat atypical Rondo form. It is ostensibly in ABA form with Coda, but the placement of the repeat signs and common second part in both A and B sections give the piece a very exotic feeling.
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