PROGRAM INFORMATION

Cantata Singers Education Program Presents

I Never Saw Another Butterfly
Songs of Terezin Concentration Camp

In a day and age when persecution and genocide are still happening in the world around us, I Never Saw Another Butterfly recalls and honors those who created music and art under the most tragic of circumstances.

Terezin, (Theresienstadt in German), was a concentration camp located north of Prague in what was then Czechoslavakia. Jewish artists, musicians, scientists and scholars were thrown together in communal misery, forced to live in a “Jewish settlement” where the Nazi’s used and exploited their cultural activities as a propaganda ploy to impress visitors and inspectors. The trick worked, and the world was deceived – while in reality, the prisoners were being starved, subjected to hard labor and, ultimately, deported to the death camps. Remarkably, amidst such unspeakable horrors, tremendously creative work flourished.

This captivating program features songs written by the imprisoned composers of Terezin - Ilse Weber, Viktor Ullmann, Gideon Klein and Pavel Haas - as well as children’s poetry from the camp in a vocal setting by contemporary composer Joel Hardyk.

The Performers

All performers come from the talented ranks of the Cantata Singers Ensemble.
Megan Beltran or Angelynne Hinson, soprano
Brian Church or Joshua Taylor, baritone
Judith Hill Bose, narrator
Suzanne McAllister, piano
Nancy Dimock, oboe

Directed by Alexandra Borrie

The Program

Song: Ich wandre durch Teresienstadt
Ilse Weber (1903-1944)
Poem: Home
Franta Bass

Four Songs on Chinese Poetry                                 

Zaslech jsem divoké husy
V bambusovém háji 
Daleko mĕsíc je domova
Probdĕná noc  

Pavel Haas (1899-1944)
Poem: Birdsong
Anonymous

I Never Saw Another Butterfly

At Terezin
I’d Like to Go Alone
The Little Mouse
The Garden
The Butterfly

Joel Hardyk (composed 1980)

poem by Teddy
poem by Alena Synkovà
poem by Miroslav Košek, Hanuš Löwy and Bachner
poem by Franta Bass
poem by Pavel Friedmann

Song: Ukolèbavka
Gideon Klein (1919-1945)
Song: Sonnenuntergang
Viktor Ullmann (1898-1944)
Song: Wiegala 
Ilse Weber

Texts and Translations

Ich wandre durch Teresienstadt

Ich wander durch Teresienstadt,
das Herzso schwer wie Blei, 
Bis jäh mein Weg ein Ende hat, 
dort knapp an der Bastei. 
I wander through Theresienstadt,
my heart is heavy as lead.
Till suddenly my way ends
right there by the bulwark.
   
Dort bleib ich auf der Brücke stehn
und schau ins Tal hinaus:
ich möcht so gerne weiter gehn, 
ich möcht so gern nach Haus!
I stand there on the bridge
and look down into the valley:
I’d like so much to go farther,
I’d like so much to go home!
   
Nach Haus! – du wunderbares Wort,
du machst das Herz mir schwer.
Man nahm mir mein Zuhause fort, 
nun hab ich keines mehr.  
Home! – You strange word,
you make my heart feel heavy.
My home has been taken away from me
now I no longer have one.
   
Ich wende mich betrübt und matt,
So schwer wird mir dabei: 
Theresienstadt, Theresienstadt,
wann wohl das Leid ein Ende hat,
wann sind wir wieder frei?
I turn away, saddened and weary,
how hard it is to do so!
Theresienstadt, Theresienstadt,
when will our suffering end?
When shall we again be free?
   
Spoken Poem
 
 
Home
 
 

I look, I look
into the wide world,
into the wide, distant world.
I look to the southeast,
I look, I look toward my home.

I look toward my home,
The city where I was born.
City, my city,
I will gladly return to you.

 
   
Čtyři písně na slova činské poezie
Four Songs on Chinese Poetry
   
Zaslech jsem divoké husy
I heard the wild geese
Domov je tam,
daleko tam
mĕlo bys domů,
zbloudilé srdce!
Your homeland is there
far away in the distance,
you should go home,
my errant heart!
   
Za cizí noci,
v podzimním dešti, 
když nejvíc studil
smutku chladný van 
ve vysokém domĕ svém zaslech jsem
křik divokých husí 
In the strange night-time,
in the autumn rain,
when one feels most
the chill wind of sorrow:
in my highland home I heard
the whooping of wild geese.
   
Právě přilétly.
They have just returned.
   
V bambusovém háji
In the bamboo grove
V bambusech nejsou lidé,
v bambusech sedím sám,
tu na loutnu zahraju tiše, 
tu sobĕ zahvízdám.
In the bamboo grove no human soul,
In the bamboo grove I sit alone,
here I play quietly on my lute,
here I whistle to myself.
   
Kdo, řekněte, lidé, kdo ví, 
kde v bambusech sedím sám
a na východ srpečku luny
bambusem pozírám?
Who then, dear people, who knows,
where I sit alone in the bamboo
and through the culms
gaze on the rising crescent moon?
   
Daleko mĕsíc je domova
The moon is far from home
A temného moře                                            
vyrůstá měsíc.                                                           
V daleké zemi                                                
ted rozkvétá též. 
Out of the dark sea
the moon rises
In a distant land
it now also waxes.
 
Láska svůj truchlí                                           
daremný sen                                                  
čeká na vzdálený večer.                                
Jasněji měsíc                                                 
svítí v hoře mé.                                               
Oblékam noční šat,                                        
chladné je jíní.  
Love laments its
vain dream,
it waits for the distant evening.
The moon shines more brightly
upon my grief.
I put on night clothes,
the hoarfrost is cold.
 
Ruce mé, ruce,
kterak jste prázdné,
říci to všechno! 
Spánku, sen dej mi
o návratu domů!
Spánku, sen nemůžeš dát:
mé toužení stále mne budí
My arms, my hands,
you are too weak
To write all that down!
O sleep, bring me a dream
About going back home!
O sleep, you cannot give me the dream:
my longing keeps waking me.
   
Probdĕná noc  
A sleepless night
Vĕtrem se bambus houpá, 
na kámen mĕsíc sed.
Do chvĕní Mléčné dráhy 
stín divoké kachny vzlét.
The bamboo sways in the wind,
the moon sites above a stone.
Into the flickering Milky Way
soars the shadow of a wild duck.
 
Na naše shledáni myslím, 
víčka má míjí sen. 
Zatím co radostí zpívam,
strak repot vzbouzí už den.
I think of our reunion,
Dreaming shuns my eyelids.
While I sing for pleasure,
The chattering of magpies already rouses the day.
 
La la la la la
La la la la la

Spoken Poem

Birdsong

He who doesn’t know the world at all

Who stays in his nest and doesn’t go out.
He doesn’t know what birds know best
Nor what I want to sing about,
That the world is full of lovliness.

When dewdrops sparkle in the grass
And earth’s aflood with morning light,
A blackbird sings upon a bush
To greet the dawning after night.
Then I know how fine it is to live.

Hey, try to open up your heart
To beauty; go to the words someday
And weave a wreath of memory there.
Then if the tears obscure your way
You’ll know how wonderful it is
            To be alive.

I Never Saw Another Butterfly

At Terezin
When a new child comes
Everything seems strange to him.
What, on the ground I have to lie?
Eat black potatoes? No! Not I!
I’ve got to stay? It’s dirty here!
The floor – why look, it’s dirt I fear!
And I’m supposed to sleep on it?
I’ll get all dirty!

Here the sound of shouting, ccries,
And oh, so many flies.
Everyone knows flies carry disease.
Oooh, something bit me!  Wasn’t that a bedbug?
Here in Terezin, life is hell
And when I’ll go home again, I can’t yet tell.

I’d Like to Go Alone
I’d like to go away alone
Where there are other, nicer people,
Somewhere into the far unknown,
There, where no one kills another.

Maybe more or us,
A thousand strong,
Will reach this goal
Before too long.

The Little Mouse
A mousie sat upon a shelf,
Catching fleas in his coat of fur.
But he couldn’t catch her – what chagrin! –
She’d hidden ‘way inside his skin.
He turned and wriggled, knew no rest,
That flea was such a nasty pest!

His daddy came
And searched his coat.
He caught the flea and off he ran
To cook her in the frying pan.
The little mouse cried , “Come and see!
For lunch we’ve got a nice, fat flea!”

The Garden
A little garden,
Fragrant and full of roses.
The path is narrow
And a little boy walks along it.

A little boy, a sweet boy,
Like that growing blossom.
When the blossom comes to bloom,
The little boy will be no more.

The Butterfly
The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun’s tears would sing
            aainst a white stone . . .

Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly ‘way up high.
It went away I’m sure because it wished to
            Kiss the world good-bye.

For seven weeks I’ve lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto.
But I have found what I love here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut branches in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly.

That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don’t live in here,
            In the ghetto.

Ukolebavka  
Lullaby

Sleep, my child, sleep in peace,
don't cry so bitterly 
Next to you sits your mother
watching out for all evil.

Sch'chav b'ni, sch'chav bimnucha
al na tivke mara
al jadcha joschevet  imcha
schomeret mikol ra
 
The jackal howls in the wood
the wind whistles, 
Sleep, my child, sleep in peace\ 
sleep in peaceful slumber.
M'jalel bajaar hatan (NB word correction)
haruach noschevet scham
Sch'chav b'ni, sch'chav  bimnucha
numa schan
 
The shadow of the night passes quickly
One should not linger long,
in the morning one must work 
Tomorrow father will do the plowing 
in the furrows father cries out,
but you, my dear child,
sleep in peaceful slumber
Lajla zel, jauf maher m'od.
assur l'htazel,
machar zarich laavod
machar jeze aba lacharosch
b'telem jelech haav
ach ata b'ni  hakatan
numa schan

Sonnenuntergang

(sung in German)
Wo bist du? trunken dämmert die Seele mir
Von all deiner Wonne; denn eben ist's,
Daß ich gelauscht, wie, goldner Töne
Voll, der entzückende Sonnenjüngling

Sein Abendlied auf himmlischer Leier spielt';
Es tönten rings die Wälder und Hügel nach.

Doch fern ist er zu frommen Völkern,
Die ihn noch ehren, hinweggegangen.

English Translation
Where are you? My intoxicated soul
surrenders to the wonder of you! It is as if
I had heard the golden notes
produced by the charming sun-youth,

as he plays a serenade on his celestial lyre.
The notes resound through the woods and hills,
even as he moves on to those pious folk
who still honor him

Wiegala
Lullaby
Wiegala, wiegala, weier,
der Wind spielt auf der Leier.
Er spielt so süss im grünen Ried, 
die Nachtigall, die singt ihr Lied.
Wiegala, wiegala weier,
der Wind spielt auf der Leier.
Wiegala, wiegala, weier,
The wind plays on the lyre.
It plays so sweetly in the green reeds.
The nightingale sings its song.
Wiegala, wiegala, weier,
The wind plays on the lyre.
 
Wiegala, wiegala, werne,
der Mond ist die Laterne,
er steht am dunklen Himmelszelt 
und schaut hernieder auf die Welt.
Wiegala, wiegala, werne,
der Mond ist die Laterne.
Wiegala, wiegala, werne,
the moon is a lantern.
It stands in the darkened firmament
nd gazes down on the world.
Wiegala, wiegala, werne,
the moon is a lantern.
 
Wiegala, wiegala, wille,
wie ist die Welt so stiller!
Es stört kein Laut die süsse Ruh,
schlaf, mein Kindchen, schlaf auch du.
Wiegala, wiegala, wille,
wie ist die Welt so stiller!
Wiegala, wiegala, wille, 
how silent is the world!
No sound disturbs the lovely peace.
Sleep, my little child, sleep too.
Wiegala, wiegala, wille,
how silent is the world!

 

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