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Text
War
English source:
Virginia Woolf
This, I thought yesterday, may be my last walk...
This, I thought yesterday, may be my last walk...
This, I thought yesterday, the war
— our waiting, waiting while the knives sharpen for the operation
The war, the war, — has taken away the outer wall of security.
No echo comes back. No echo comes back. I have no surroundings...
Those familiar circumvolutions — those standards
— which have for so many years given back an echo
and so thickened my identity are all wide and wild as the desert now.
I mean, there is no "autumn", no winter.
We pour to the edge of a precipice... and then? And then?
I can’t conceive that there will be a 27th June 1941.
This, I thought yesterday, may be my last walk...
This, I thought yesterday, the war
— our waiting, waiting while the knives sharpen for the operation
The war, the war, — has taken away the outer wall of security.
No echo comes back. No echo comes back. I have no surroundings...
Those familiar circumvolutions — those standards
— which have for so many years given back an echo
and so thickened my identity are all wide and wild as the desert now.
I mean, there is no "autumn", no winter.
We pour to the edge of a precipice... and then? And then?
I can’t conceive that there will be a 27th June 1941.
Composer
Dominick Argento
Dominick Argento (1927 – 2019) was an American composer known for his lyric operatic and choral music. Among his best known pieces are the operas Postcard from Morocco, Miss Havisham's Fire, The Masque of Angels, and The Aspern Papers. Image © King…
