The little black boy (Huub de Lange): Difference between revisions
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*{{NewWork|2014-11-05}} {{CPDLno|15021}} [{{website|delange}}/Four_Blake_Songs_2_THE_LITTLE_BLACK_BOY_(Huub_de_Lange).pdf {{extpdf}}] [{{website|delange}}/Four_Blake_Songs_2_THE_LITTLE_BLACK_BOY_(Huub_de_Lange).mp3 {{extmp3}}] | *{{NewWork|2014-11-05}} {{CPDLno|15021}} [{{website|delange}}/Four_Blake_Songs_2_THE_LITTLE_BLACK_BOY_(Huub_de_Lange).pdf {{extpdf}}] [{{website|delange}}/Four_Blake_Songs_2_THE_LITTLE_BLACK_BOY_(Huub_de_Lange).mp3 {{extmp3}}] | ||
{{Editor|Huub de Lange|original version 2007-09-14}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|10}}{{Copy|Personal}} | {{Editor|Huub de Lange|original version 2007-09-14}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|10|195}}{{Copy|Personal}} | ||
:'''Composer note:''' New version - November 2014 (changes in m.30/m.55-57/m.78-80). | :'''Composer note:''' New version - November 2014 (changes in m.30/m.55-57/m.78-80). | ||
Revision as of 13:29, 5 November 2014
Music files
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CPDL #15021:
- Editor: Huub de Lange (submitted original version 2007-09-14Expression error: Unexpected < operator.Expression error: Unexpected < operator.Expression error: Unexpected < operator.). Score information: A4, 10 pages, 195 kB Copyright: Personal
- Composer note: New version - November 2014 (changes in m.30/m.55-57/m.78-80).
General Information
Title: The Little Black Boy
Composer: Huub de Lange
Lyricist: William Blake
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Partsong
Language: English
Instruments: A cappella
Published: 2007
Description: Composition on a poem by William Blake (1757-1827). #2 from Four Blake Songs.
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but oh! my soul is white.
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black as if bereaved of light.
My mother taught me underneath a tree,
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say:
"Look on the rising sun, -there God does live
And gives his light, and gives his heat away;
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.
And we are put on earth a little space
That we may learn to bear the beams of love;
And these black bodies and this sunburnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
For when our souls have learned the heat to bear
The cloud will vanish, we shall hear his voice
Saying: `Come out from the grove, my love and care,
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice!' "
Thus did my mother say, and kissed me;
And thus I say to little English boy:
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy,
I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear
To lean in joy upon our father's knee;
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him, and he will then love me.