For the more serious side of your repertoire, try the haunting song of a child left without mother, "the silent one that does not come." Argentine composer Andrés Gaos writes one of his more dramatic songs and dresses the simple melody in thick, intense harmonies.


Mis transidas esperanzas
llorosas y sin consuelo
preguntan por la su madre
por la su madre que ha muerto.
Cuando lloran por el día
las campanas del silencio.

Enlutaré mis alcobas
hasta hoy tan florecidas
y agostaré mis jardines
y sus fuentes de agua viva
que la rosa más preciada
murió agostando mi vida.

Despedido ha todo encanto
y el monje del desconsuelo
dice a mi oído palabras
mas amargas que el pan negro.
La silenciosa no llega
y a la silenciosa espero.

My longing tears overwhelm me
spilling without a hope of consolation,
Yearning for my mother,
For my mother who is dead.
The evening bells cry out,
the bells of death’s silence.

I will drape my alcoves in black,
that once were in full bloom,
and I will starve my garden plants,
and I will choke the wells of living water.
My most precious rose
has died, extinguishing my life.

Life’s charm has disappeared
and the monk of sorrows
whispers words in my ears
more bitter than black bread.
The silent one does not come,
yet I wait for the silent one.

[English translation by Allison L. Weiss]


from Andrés Gaos (1874​-​1959) Argentina, track released February 1, 2010
Poesía: Tomás Allende Iragorri (1881-1954)
Música: Andrés Gaos (1874-1959)

Soprano: Allison L. Weiss
Piano: Silas Bassa

Art: diegomanuel.com.ar




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