Child Soprano Elvira de Paiva

I was born in the city of Coimbra and grew up in Lousã, 30km from the city. From an early age I was fascinated by the Coimbra, its history, its legends, its myths and places. The great love story of Pedro and Inês, associated with the legend of the Fountain of Tears, is the first theme I decided to treat musically. It al began far from the shores of the Mondego River, on the other side of the Atlantic, at Duke University Library. There I found a book that served as my road map for the journey: Inês de Castro, Um Tema Português na Europa, by Maria Leonor Machado de Sousa, Edições 70. With this book I was introduced to the Trouas by Garcia de Resende, Castro by António Ferreira, I re-read Os Lusiadas, Canto III, by Camões, and I descovered a latin poem, De Agnetis Caede, by André de Resende. In this poem, André de Resende creates many of the elements and images that António Ferreira and Camões would later imitate, in their works on the same theme, “as was acceptable and common practice at the time”, according to Maria Leonor de Sousa.

I chose the poem by André de Resende, in latin, as the text for a lament on the death of Inês, which I titled
Fontis Amorum, from the last line of the poem. From the 24 stanzas of the poem I chose numbers 3, 21 and 24, whose main element is water in the form of the river, the fountain and tears.

Stanza number 3 evokes the fields on the shores of the Mondego River and the memory of Pedro. Stanza 21 speaks of the green fields, the rivers and valleys crying over the death of Inês. Stanza 24, the last stanza of the poem, describes the transformation of the tears, wept for Inês' companions, into a natural spring which they named ‘Fontis amorum’, the fountain of love.

Sung in Latin
De Agnetis Caede, by André de Resende (1498-1573)

Pulchra iucundis fruebare, Virgo,                      Beautiful Virgin, you were enjoying the
Fructibus Mondae recreantis agros,                 sweet fruits of the Mondego, as it revived the fields,
Edocens flores resonare clarum                       teaching the flowers to re-echo
Nomen Amantis.                                                    the name of your lover.

Antra plorarunt viridesque luci,                         The caverns and green groves bewailed her,
Et piis fatum lacrimis acerbum                          and the valleys wept with tender tears,
Flere convalles sonituque rauco                       over her harsh fate; with raucous sound
Flumina flerunt. the rivers wept.

Virginis mortem sociae gementes                    The virgin’s friends, mourning her unjust death,
Impiam tristes lacrimis in undam                      to their tears that had turned into
Candidam versis, posuere nomen                    a fair spring, gave the name
‘Fontis amorum’.                                                   ‘Fountain of Love’.

On a pier two musicians accompany Penelope in her farewell to Ulysses, as she begins to prepare her yarn.

Sung in Portuguese
Excerpt from the poem Ithaca by the greek poet Konstantinos Kavafis (1863-1933) translated to Portuguese by Jorge de Sena

Quando partires de regresso a Ítaca,
deves orar por uma viagem longa,
plena de aventuras e de experiências.
Ciclopes, Lestregónios, e mais monstros,
um Poseidon irado – não os temas,
jamais encontrarás tais coisas no caminho,
se o teu pensar for puro, e se um sentir sublime
teu corpo toca e o espírito te habita.
Ciclopes, Lestregónios, e outros monstros,
Poseidon em fúria – nunca encontrarás,
se não é na tua alma que os transportes,
ou ela os não erguer perante ti.

Deves orar por uma viagem longa.
Que sejam muitas as manhãs de Verão,
quando, com que prazer, com que deleite,
entrares em portos jamais antes vistos!

Em colónias fenícias deverás deter-te
para comprar mercadorias raras:
coral e madrepérola, âmbar e marfim,
e perfumes subtis de toda a espécie:
compra desses perfumes quanto possas.
E vai ver as cidades do Egipto,
para aprenderes com os que sabem muito.
Terás sempre Ítaca no teu espírito,
que lá chegar é o teu destino último.
Mas não te apresses nunca na viagem.
É melhor que ela dure muitos anos,
que sejas velho já ao ancorar na ilha,
rico do que foi teu pelo caminho,
e sem esperar que Ítaca te dê riquezas.

Ítaca deu-te essa viagem esplêndida.
...

(English translation)

When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.
Ask that your way be long.
At many a Summer dawn to enter
with what gratitude, what joy -
ports seen for the first time;
to stop at Phoenician trading centers,
and to buy good merchandise,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensuous perfumes of every kind,
sensuous perfumes as lavishly as you can;
to visit many Egyptian cities,
to gather stores of knowledge from the learned.
Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don't in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.

...

English translation by unknown

Seattle Performance Group

Three poems of the sea by George Sarandáris (1907-41)

Prelude
We are always reading the waves.
And time takes us
And leaves us on other seas
And brings us to other seas.
The dance within the dance
Everyone becomes a child.
I
O dove of the soul may you fare well
Go now with the etesian wind
And kiss for me whatever pearls you meet
If you cannot see me do not fear I shall keep holiday with you
On our voyage we shall raise the waters from the sea
To bless whatever we have loved
And whatever we no longer forget
The dove moored in the garden
My soul moored in then garden
Well. I remember now the summer of my life
As though you were earth's only springtime
I confront you o day of my birth
II
The lucky sea waves to us
As though the birds above it were guiding it
As though they were taking it into their arms
The ether is a straight road
Everyone walks within his shadow
Or within his sleep
Whoever takes the sea into his arms
Seems not to suffer from weight
Seems not ashamed of going with the wind
Seems as though he holds all the earth in his glance
As though he sings in the night
And behold night becomes a mother to him
That he may sing in the sun
And love a woman
Who seems an infant to him
That he may sing in the wind
And thus keep on losing and winning his voice
III
The sea shatters into numberless crystals
We scoop them up and mounted on air go voyaging
We scatter them wherever we see women lamenting
As though deprived of their children
Then the seas are created again
And an unsurpassable innocence discerns them
Then men fly higher in the sky
To take in all they can of light from far away
While women dressed in black eternally narrate
The birth of the seas

Three poems of the sea was translated from the Greek by Kimon Friar, "Modern Greek Poetry", Simon and Schuster, 1973, New York.

Three poems of the sea’ by Eugénio Rodrigues,…revealed a young man who can infuse rapturous, unabashedly post-romantic music with something all his own.
… luminous, hot and heavy, minimal, wide-rangingly linear – and the audience registered its hearty approval.

News-Times – Danbury, CT October 16,1989