Camerata Nordica
Karin Dahlberg, soprano
Barnabàs Kelement, leader

Concert Live Recording (2018) at Kalmar Castle, Sweden

Five Poems of Sara Teasdale for soprano and strings,
composed by Tina Andersson.
– But not to me
– Child, Child
– Joy
– After Love/ Ebb Tide

Film Producer: Timo Trolin Blaesild
Sound Design: Per Sjösten
Sound and Light: Scenteknik
Photo: Iteve Production Sweden

The Five poems are selected from Sara Teasdale’s book “Love Songs”, for which she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in Poetry 1918.

But Not to Me
The April night is still and sweet
With flowers on every tree;
Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
But not to me.

My peace is hidden in his breast
Where I shall never be;
Love comes to-night to all the rest,
But not to me.

Child, Child
Child, child, love while you can
The voice and the eyes and the soul of a man;
Never fear though it break your heart—
Out of the wound new joy will start;
Only love proudly and gladly and well,
Though love be heaven or love be hell.

Child, child, love while you may,
For life is short as a happy day;
Never fear the thing you feel—
Only by love is life made real;
Love, for the deadly sins are seven,
Only through love will you enter heaven.

Joy
I am wild, I will sing to the trees,
I will sing to the stars in the sky,
I love, I am loved, he is mine,
Now at last I can die!

I am sandaled with wind and with flame,
I have heart-fire and singing to give,
I can tread on the grass or the stars,
Now at last I can live!

After Love
There is no magic any more,
We meet as other people do,
You work no miracle for me
Nor I for you.
You were the wind and I the sea—
There is no splendor any more,
I have grown listless as the pool
Beside the shore.

But though the pool is safe from storm
And from the tide has found surcease,
It grows more bitter than the sea,
For all its peace.

Ebb Tide
When the long day goes by
And I do not see your face,
The old wild, restless sorrow
Steals from its hiding place.

My day is barren and broken,
Bereft of light and song,
A sea beach bleak and windy
That moans the whole day long.

To the empty beach at ebb tide,
Bare with its rocks and scars,
Come back like the sea with singing,
And light of a million stars.