official web site since 1997 of the composer, author, poet and visual artist

 Joseph Johannes (Joop) Visser:

ECCE HOMO; 6 Songs on Poems by

First World War Poets

for Alto and Church Organ

sketches as played on carillon and celesta

Original recordings of the

Première Performance by:

MIRJAM BOERS & LOUIS LEVELT

recording JAAP WAJER
15th of April 2012
in the Lutheran Church, Edam
the organ is built by Gideon Thomas Baetz from Utrecht

 

CHARLES HAMILTON SORLEY:

All the hills and vales along

 

JOSEPH RUDYARD KIPLING:
A son

JOSEPH RUDYARD KIPLING:
Unknown Female Corpse

CHARLES HAMILTON SORLEY:
When you see Millions

WILFRED EDWARD OWEN:
Futility

PHILIP EDWARD S. THOMAS:
In Memoriam (Easter1915)

 

RETURN TO

1st page of the '6 Songs'

 

‘All the Hills and Vales Along’

All the hills and vales along
Earth is bursting into song,
And the singers are the chaps
Who are going to die perhaps.
- O sing, marching men,
Till the valleys ring again.
Give your gladness to earth’s keeping,
So be glad, when you are sleeping.

Cast away regret and rue,
Think what you are marching to.
Little live, great pass.
Jesus Christ and Barabbas
Were found the same day.
This died, that went his way.
- So sing with joyful breath,
For why, you are going to death.
Teeming earth will surely store
All the gladness that you pour.

Earth that never doubts nor fears,
Earth that knows of death, not tears,
Earth that bore with joyful ease
Hemlock for Socrates,
Earth that blossomed and was glad
‘Neath the cross that Christ had,
Shall rejoice and blossom too
When the bullet reaches you.
- Wherefore, men marching
On the road to death, sing!
Pour your gladness on earth’s head,
So be merry, so be dead.

From the hills and valleys earth
Shouts back the sound of mirth,
Tramp of feet and lilt of song
Ringing all the road along.
All the music of their going,
Ringing swinging glad song-throwing,
Earth will echo still, when foot
Lies numb and voice mute.
- On, marching men, on
To the gates of death with song.
Sow your gladness for earth’s reaping,
So you may be glad, though sleeping.
Strew your gladness on earth’s bed,
So be merry, so be dead.

 

 

Mirjam Boers, alto and composer Joseph J. Visser after the première

Zangeres Mirjam Boers en componist Joseph J. Visser na de première

 

 

 

CHARLES HAMILTON SORLEY (1895-1915)

Born in Aberdeen, Scotland; his favourite pursuit was cross-country running in the rain - see "Rain", "The Song of the Ungirt Runners" and other pre-war poems. He was a (language) student in Jena, Germany when war broke out.

 

 

The Song of the Ungirt Runners

 

We swing ungirded hips,
And lightened are our eyes,
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
We know not whom we trust
Nor whitherward we fare,
But we run because we must
Through the great wide air.

 

The waters of the seas
Are troubled as by storm.
The tempest strips the trees
And does not leave them warm.
Does the tearing tempest pause?
Do the tree-tops ask it why?
So we run without a cause
'Neath the big bare sky.

 

 

The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
But the storm the water whips
And the wave howls to the skies.
The winds arise and strike it
And scatter it like sand,
And we run because we like it
Through the broad bright land.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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