PS-400 British Writers- In the Wilds of Time
"This is the Day in the Wilds of Time" derived from the poem "Maud Part I" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson; multitrack
I now create music so people can spend time with better company.
Cover Songs on Soundclick: https://www.soundclick.com/numiwhocreativecovers
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Story behind the song
Keyboard/Vocal improvisation. Method: Pick up a book of old poetry. Scan for promising passages. Work out a chord framework for 'song'. Begin recording. While reading, rearrange poem into something new while creating the vocals and music. Real-time creativity on three levels- the words, the vocals, and the piano.
Lyrics
derived from the poem "Maud Part I" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Go not happy day
from the shining fields;
go not happy day
'till the maiden
yields....
So dark a mind
within me dwells,
I make myself such evil cheer;
that if I be dear
to someone else,
then someone else will have much
to fear!
But if I be dear to someone else,
then I should be to myself
more dear.
Well, I cannot take care of all that
I think is evil,
of wretched meat and drink,
If I be dear, if I be dear
to someone else.
This lump of earth has left mistakes,
the latter by loss of His weight;
and so that he finds what he went
to seek,
before some pleasure
clogs him in around his heart,
and gross mud-honey,
and tough towns.
He may stay for a year,
is gone for a week;
but this is the day when I must speak,
and I see my horrid coming down.
This is the day,
oh beautiful creature, what am I,
that I dare to awake;
I think I may hold on minion sweet.
Lord of the pulse
that is Lord of her breast,
dream of her beauty,
tenderness,
from delicate air I watch
on her feet
to the grace of pride
and light as the grass,
a peacock sits on her shining head,
and she knows it not,
oh, if she knew it,
to know her beauty might half
undo it!
I know if the one bright thing to say,
but yet young life in the wilds of time.
Perhaps from madness,
perhaps from crime, perhaps
from the selfish grace.
But if she be fastened
to this full ordeal
I bid her a fine wear of word,
for I had loved her so well
if she hadn't given her word
to things so low.
Shall I love her as well
if she can break her word
the word even for me;
catch not my breath,
oh clamorous heart,
let not my tongue be a thwart
to my dream;
for I must tell her
before we part,
I must tell her
or die!