1. |
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Notre Père qui es aux cieux,
que ton Nom soit sanctifié,
que ton règne vienne,
que ta volonté soit faite
sur la terre comme au ciel.
Donne-nous aujourd'hui notre pain de ce jour.
Pardonne-nous nos offenses,
comme nous pardonnons aussi à ceux qui nous ont offensés.
Et ne nous soumets pas à la tentation,
mais délivre-nous du mal.
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2. |
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3. |
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La, la, la, je ne l'o, je ne lo',
je ne l'ose dire.
La, la, la, je le vous dirai,
et la, la, la, je le vous dirai.
Il est un homme en not' ville
qui de sa femme est jaloux.
Il n'est pas jaloux sans cause,
mais il est cocu de tout.
Et la, la, la, je ne l'o, je ne lo',
je ne l'ose dire.
La, la, la, je le vous dirai,
et la, la, la, je le vous dirai.
Il n'est pas jaloux sans cause,
mais il est cocu de tout.
Il aprete et si la mene
au marche s'en va a tout.
Et la, la, la, je ne l'o, je ne lo',
je ne l'ose dire.
La, la, la, je le vous dirai,
et la, la, la, je le vous dirai!
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4. |
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When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
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5. |
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My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.
Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.
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6. |
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I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air;
I see her tripping where the bright streams play,
Happy as the daisies that dance on her way.
Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour.
Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o’er:
Oh! I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.
I long for Jeanie with the daydawn smile,
Radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile;
I hear her melodies, like joys gone by,
Sighing round my heart o’er the fond hopes that die:—
Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain,—
Wailing for the lost one that comes not again:
Oh! I long for Jeanie, and my heart bows low,
Never more to find her where the bright waters flow.
I sigh for Jeanie, but her light form strayed
Far from the fond hearts round her native glade;
Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown,
Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone.
Now the nodding wild flowers may wither on the shore
While her gentle fingers will cull them no more:
Oh! I sigh for Jeanie with the light brown hair,
Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.
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7. |
Andrew Dewey - "Father"
04:15
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8. |
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Il est bel et bon, commère, mon mari.
Il estoit deux femmes toutes d'ung pays.
Disanst l'une à l'aultre - "Avez bon mary?"
Il ne me courrousse, ne me bat aussy.
Il faict le mesnaige,
Il donne aux poulailles,
Et je prens mes plaisirs.
Commère, c'est pour rire
Quand les poulailles crient:
Petite coquette (co co co co dae)e, qu'esse-cy?
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9. |
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10. |
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11. |
Ping Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Formed in 2013 as an early/new music vocal ensemble at Carnegie Mellon, Ping believes there's something special at the intersection of Pärt and Palestrina. They've opened for the Pittsburgh Symphony and Orion String Quartet, held residencies in Colorado and Nantucket, and been an important catalyst in the creation of new vocal music, having premiering eight new works by young composers this year. ... more
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