Lyrics

Music Crosses Borders

We Are Walking (Somagwaza)

Traditional Bantu song with English words.

Ha weh, ha weh
Somagwaza.
We are walking
to the new land.

Hine Ma Tov (Behold How Good)

From Psalm 133.

Hinei ma tov uma nayim
Shevet achim gam yachad		 Behold how good and pleasing
when brothers can sit together in unity
Hinei ma tov uma nayim
Shevet achot gam yachad		 Behold how good and pleasing
when sisters can sit together in unity

Cuando el Pobre (When the Poor Ones)

Jose Antonio Olivar and Miguel Manzano. Arranged by Doug Balcom. When people reach out and help one another, even as strangers, they express love for the Creator. This teaching is found in many of the world’s religions.

Cuando pobre nada tiene y aún reparte,
cuando alguien pasa sed y agua nos da,
cuando el débil a suhermano fortalece,
va Dios mismo en nuestro mismo caminar.
 When the poor ones, who have nothing, still are giving;
when the thirsty pass the cup, water to share;
when the wounded offer others strength and healing:
we see God, here by our side, walking our way.
Cuando alguno sufre y logra su consuelo,
cuando espera y no se cansa de esperar,
cuando amamos, aunque el odio nos rodee,
va Dios mismo en nuestro mismo caminar.		 When compassion gives the suffering consolation;
when expecting brings to birth hope that was lost;
when we choose love, not the hatred all around us:
we see God, here by our side, walking our way.
Cuando crece la alegria y los inunda,
cuando dicen nuestros labios laverdad,
cuando añoramos el sentir de los sencillos,
va Dios mismo en nuestro mismo caminar.		 When our spirits, like a chalice, brim with gladness;
when our voices, full and clear, sing out the truth;
when our longings, free from envy, seek the humble:
we see God, here by our side, walking our way.
Cuando abunda el bien y llena los hogares,
cuando alguien donde hay guerra pone paz,
cuando “hermano” le llamamos al extraño,
va Dios mismo en nuestro mismo caminar.		 When the goodness poured from heaven fills our dwellings;
when the nations work to change war into peace;
when the stranger is accepted as our neighbor:
we see God, here by our side, walking our way.

Alma Llanera (Soul of the Plains)

Pedro Gutiérrez, arranged by Angel Sauce with Abel Rocha on traditional folk harp. People everywhere find their souls in the waters, breezes, and trees.

Yo nací en una ribera
del Arauca vibrador.
soy hermana de las flores,
soy hermana de las rosas,
soy hermana de la espuma,
de las garzas, de las rosas y del sol.		 I was born on a bank
of the Arauca rapids.
I am sister to the flowers,
I am sister to the roses,
I am sister to the foam,
to the egrets, to the roses and the sun.
Me arrulió la viva diana
de la brisa en la palmar
y por eso tengo el alma
como el alma primorosa del cristal.		 The lively reveille of the breeze
serenaded me in the palm grove;
and, therefore, I have a soul
like the exquisite soul of crystal.
Amo, lloro, canto, sueño
con claveles de pasión
para ornar las rubias crines
del potro de mi amador.		 I love, I cry, I sing, I dream
about carnations of passion
to adorn the blond mane
of the colt of my belovéd.

White Bird

David Laflamme and Linda Laflamme, arranged by Charles Hiestand. This anthem from the 60’s is our metaphor for the freedom of music to fly and cross borders, not to cause distress, but to share beauty from one culture to another.

White bird in a golden cage
on a winter’s day in the rain.
White bird in a golden cage alone.
The leaves blow ’cross the long, black road
to the darkened skies in its rage,
but the white bird just sits in her cage unknown.
White bird must fly or she will die.
White bird dreams of the aspen trees
with their dying leaves turning gold,
but the white bird just sits in her cage growing old.
White bird must die, then she will fly.
The sunsets come, the sunsets go,
the clouds roll by, and the earth turns old,
the young bird’s eyes do always glow,
and she will fly, and she will fly.

Punto y Raya

Performed by Correo Aereo. Points and lines were designed so that my hunger and yours are always separated.

Entre tu pueblo y mi pueblo
hay un punto y una raya.
La raya dice no hay paso
el punto : vía cerrada.		 Between your town and my town
there is a point and a line.
The line says don’t cross,
the point: Closed way.
Ya siempre en todo los pueblo
raya y punto, punto y raya.
Con tantas rayas y puntos,
el mapa es un telegrama.		 And so among all peoples,
line and point, point and line.
With so many dots and dashes,
the map is a telegraph.
Caminando por el mundo
se ven rios y montañas,
se ven selvas y desiertos
pero ni puntos ni rayas.		 Walking around the world
you see rivers and mountains,
you see jungles and deserts
but no points or lines.
Porque esas cosas no existen
si no que fueron trazadas
para que (mi hambre / mi alma) y tuya
estén siempre separadas.		 Because these things do not exist,
but there were designed
so that my hunger and yours
are always separated.

Misterios Guarda La Noche, Jorge Cafrune

Jorge Cafrune. Performed by Correo Aereo. Mysteries guard the night, but all people want to dance in the light.

Cuando se agranda la noche
por entre los cerros florece el cantar
de los pastores que al viento
le dan el lamento que echan a volar.		 When the night grows,
through the hills the songs
of the shepherds flourish
for the wind to carry their laments away.
Y sobre el monte la luna
derrama la espuma de su claridad
muere en la sombra olvidada
y entre la enramada bailando se va. 		And on the mountain the moon
pours the foam of its clarity,
dies in the forgotten shadow
and dances away among the bowers.
Misterios guarda la noche
que nadie revelara
solo los montes conocen
la voz de la eternidad. 		Mysteries guard the night
that no one will reveal.
Only the mountains know
the voice of eternity.
Muere en la sombra olvidada
y entre la erramada bailando se va.		 He dies in the forgotten shadow
and dances away among the errands.
Mezcla en su canto los grillos
al suave murmullo de algún mantial
y un coro llena su nota
con voces que brotan de la oscuridad. 		They mix the crickets in their songs
to the soft murmur of a spring
and a chorus fills their notes
with voices that come from the darkness.
Cuando se muera la noche
los amaneceres la van a velar
con la mortaja rosada
de un alba encantada la van a enterrar.		 When the night dies
the sunrises are going to watch
as they bury the night
with the pink shroud of dawn.

La Llorona

Mexican folk song. Soloist: Alma Villegas, with Abel Rocha on traditional folk harp .

Todos me dicen el negro, Llorona,
negro pero cariñoso.
Yo soy como el chile verde, Llorona,
picante pero sabroso.		 Everyone calls me ‘the black,’ Llorona
Black but loving.
I am like the green chili pepper, Llorona
spicy, but tasty.
Ay de mi, Llorona,
Llorona de ayer y hoy
Ayer maravilla fui, llorona
Y ahora ni sombra soy		 Alas!, Llorona, Llorona,
Llorona of the black eyes.
With this one [verse] I say goodbye, Llorona,
worshipping you on my knees.

A la Puerta del Cielo

Mexican folk lullaby, arranged by Sally K. Albrecht. Soloists: Martha Baskin & Emily Leslie (sopranos), Donene Blair & Judy Jones (altos), Doug Balcom & Bill Cote (tenors). They sell shoes to little angels at the gates of heaven; all people seek peace and safety.

A la puerta del cielo venden zapatos,
Para los angelitos que andan des calzos.
Duermete niño, arru, arru.		 At the gate of heaven they are selling shoes,
For little angels who walk around.
Go to sleep baby, arru, arru.
A los niños que duermen, Dios los bendice.
A las madres que velan, Dios las asiste.
Duermete niño, arru, arru.		 God blesses the children who sleep.
God helps the mothers who watch.
Go to sleep baby, arru, arru.

La Vida

Jim Papoulis. Our hearts give the rhythms of our lives.

Oye vida como va,
Oye vida dime ya
Ritmo de tu corazón, viva!		 Hey life, how’s it going,
Hey life, tell me now
Rhythm of your heart, hurray!
Tu mundo se forma en tu corazón,
Todos tu sueños nacen en ti,
Dime me vida, puedo llegar,
Todo me espera, sígueme!		 Your world is created within your heart
All your dreams are born within you
Tell me my life, can I get there
Everything awaits me, follow me!
Yo tengo todo para que
Sueños se pierdan, siguelos.
Yo soy la fuerza en mi corazón,
Todo me espera, sígueme!		 Everything that I need is within me
Dreams can get lost, follow them.
I am the strength within my heart
Everything awaits me, follow me!
La vida, es como tú lo haces.
La vida, vive en tu corazón.
La vida, es como tú lo haces.
Oye que ritmo tu vida.		 Life, is what you make of it.
Life, lives within your heart.
Life, is what you make of it.
Oh what rhythm your life.
Ritmo da vida,
Muevo con ritmo.
Vive en tu corazón!		 Rhythm gives life,
I move to the beat.
Live in your heart!

Vegetaciones, from Canto General

Mikis Theodorakis, lyrics from the poetry of Pablo Neruda. Soloist: Alma Villegas
. This movement of Canto General celebrates the fertile beauty of the South American mountains, plains, and jungles.

A las tierras sin nombres y sin números bajaba el viento desde otros dominios, traía la lluvia hilos celestes, y el dios de los altares impregnados devolvía las flores y las vidas. To the lands without name or numbers, the wind blew down from other domains, the rain brought celestial threads, and the god of the impregnated altars restored flowers and lives.
En la fertilidad crecía el tiempo. In fertility, time grew.
El jacarandá elevaba espuma hecha de resplandores transmarinos, la araucaria de lanzas erizadas era la magnitud contra la nieve, el primordial árbol caoba desde su copa destilaba sangre, y al sur de los alerces, el árbol trueno, el árbol rojo, el árbol de la espina, el árbol madre, el ceibo bermellón, el árbol caucho, eran volumen terrenal, sonido, eran territoriales existencias. Un nuevo aroma propagado llenaba, por sos intersticios de la tierra, las respiraciones convertidas en humo y fragancia: el tabaco silvestre alzaba su rosal de aire imaginario. The jacaranda raised its froth of transmarine splendor, the araucaria, bristling with spears, was magnificent against the snow, the primordial mahogany tree distilled blood from its crown, and to the South of the cypress, the thunder tree, the red tree, the thorn tree, the mother tree, the scarlet ceibo, the rubber tree, were earthly volume, sound, territorial existence. A newly propagated aroma suffused, through the interstices of the earth, the breaths transformed into mist and fragrance: wild tobacco raised its rosebush of imaginary air.
Como una lanza terminada en fuego apreció el maíz,y su estatura se desgranó y nació de nuevo, diseminó su harina,tuvo muertos bajo sus raíces, y,luego,en su cuna,miró crecer los dioses vegetales. Like a fire-tipped spear corn emerged, its stature was stripped and it gave forth again, disseminated its flour, had corpses beneath its roots, and then, in its cradle, it watched the vegetable gods grow.
Arruga y extensión diseminaba la semilla del viento sobre las plumas de la cordillera espesa luz de germen y pezones, aurora ciega amamantada por los ungüentos terrenales de la implacable latitud lluviosa, de las cerradas noches manantiales, de las cistemas matutinas y aún en las llanuras como láminas de planeta, bajo un fresco pueblo de estrellas, rey de la hierba, el ombú detenía el aire libre,el vuelo rumoroso y montaba la pampa sujetándola con su ramal de riendas y raíces. Wrinkle and extension, sown by the seeds of the wind over the plumes of the Cordillera, dense light of germ and nipples, blind dawn nursed by the earthly ointments of the implacable rainy latitude, of the enshrouded torrential nights, of the matinal cisterns. And still on the prairies, like laminas of the planet, beneath a fresh republic of stars, the ombu, king of the grass, stopped the free air, the whispering flight, and mounted the pampa, holding it in with a bridle of reins and roots.
América arboleda, zarza salvaje entre los mares, de polo a polo balanceabas, tesoro verde, tu espesura. Germinaba la noche en ciudades de cáscaras sagradas, en sonoras maderas, extensas hojas aue cubrían la piedra germinal,los acimientos. Útero verde, Americana sabana seminal, bodega espesa, una rama nació como una isla, una hoja fue forma de la espada, una flor fue relámpago y medusa, un racimo redondeó su resumen, una raíz descendió a las tinieblas. Arboreal America, wild bramble between the seas, from pole to pole you balanced, green treasure, your dense growth. The night germinated in cities of sacred pods, in sonorous woods, outstretched leaves covering the germinal stone, the births. Green uterus, seminal American savanna, dense storehouse, a branch was born like an island, a leaf was shaped like a sword, a flower was lightning and medusa, a cluster rounded off its resume, a root descended into the darkness.

Poputnaya Pesnia (Traveling Song)

Mikhail Glinka, arranged by Vadim Prokhorov. Russians, Europeans, and Americans share a common humanity and culture in music without regard to international tensions.

Dîm stolbom kipit, dîmitsa parohod.
Pestrota, razgul, volnen'e, ozhîdan'e, neterpen'e.
Provoslavnîy veselitsa nash narod,
I bîstree, shibshe voli poezd mchitsa v chistom pole.		 Smoke is rising, soon a steamer will depart.
What a picture: every color, all excitement and impatience.
People gather to enjoy the merry ride,
And a train is speeding over the plain on such a great occasion.
Taynaya duma bîstree letit,
I sertse, mgnovenya shitaya, stuchit;
Ko varnîe dumî mel'kayut dorogoy,
I shepchesh' nevol'no: O bozhe, kak dolgo!		 To you, my belovéd, my secret thoughts fly,
My keen heart evokes every moment with you;
A hesitant doubt through my mind wanders briefly,
“Oh heaven, how long!” I impatiently whisper.
Ne vozduh, ne zelen' stradal'tsa manyat:
Tam yasnîe ochi tak yarko goryat;
Tak polnî bla zhenstva minutî svidan'ya,
Tak sladki nadezhdoy chasî rastavan'ya!		 My heart’s not enticed by the far distant place,
Your beautiful eyes shine there, lighting the way.
How happy and blissful are minutes together,
How sweet is the hope at the hour of departure.

Raghupati

Traditional Hindu hymn. Soloist: David Matthews, Matthew Weiss (tabla). A song about Rama (incarnation of Vishnu) and Sita from the Hindu epic Ramayana. In this story, Rama vanquishes the demon Ravana. This is a metaphor for light overcoming darkness. Mahatma Gandhi used this song of prayer to plea for peace between Muslim and Hindu people.

Raghupati Raghava Rajaram.
Patita Paban, Sitaram.		 Lord Ram, the lord of heavens,
blessed is thy name.
Sitaram jai, Sitaram. Victory to you, Lord Ram.
Iswara Allah tere naam
Sabko sanmati de Bhagwan.		 Some call you Ishwar (Lord Vishnu),
and others call you Allah.

Cuando el Pobre (with Person lyrics)

Jose Antonio Olivar and Miguel Manzano, with Persian lyrics by Saadi.

When the poor ones, who have nothing, still are giving;
when the thirsty pass the cup, water to share;
when the wounded offer others strength and healing:
we see God, here by our side, walking our way.		 English lyrics by Martin A. Seltz (1951)
Ba ni Adam a’ zA ye yek peyka rand
ke dar A fari nesh ze yek go ha rand
cho oz vi bedard A va radruze gAr
de gar ozv hA rA na mA nadgha rAr
de gar ozv hArA na mA nadgha rAr		 Persian lyrics by Saadi (13th century):
“Humans (children of Adam) are the limbs of one body,
and are from the same essence in their creation.
When the conditions of the time hurt one of these limbs,
other limbs will also suffer.”

Bridges, Not Walls

Doug Balcom. It’s time to build bridges, not walls.

They tell me I should fear you;
They tell me, “Lock the door.”
They tell me to reject you
When you come to our shore.
But what if my ancestors
Were also turned away?
I would not even be here;
And this is why I say:
You are my sister, you are my friend;
Your right to come here I will defend.
My Muslim brother, now hear my call:
It’s time to build bridges, not walls!
They tell me you’re too many;
They tell me jobs are few.
They tell me I’ll lose my job
If I give one to you.
But people are the engine
Of our economy.
It’t time we all rejected
These lies they’re telling me.
You are my sister, you are my friend;
Your right to come here I will defend.
My Southern neighbor, now hear my call:
It’s time to build bridges, not walls!
They tell me you’re too different;
They tell me, “Be afraid.”
They tell me you would threaten
This lovely home we’ve made.
But all of us are different;
It makes our country strong.
Embracing all the difference,
We welcome you with song:
You are my sister, you are my friend;
Your right to stay here I will defend.
My Haitian brother, now hear my call:
It’s time to build bridges, not walls!

Give Me your Tired, your Poor

Irving Berlin, arranged by Roy Ringwald, lyrics from this sonnet by Emma Lazarus, “The New Colossus.” We sing the lines cast in bronze on the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame,
“Keep, ancient lands, your stored pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Díi Gudangáay uu Síigaay (I Can Feel the Ocean)

Sondra Segundo-Cunningham and Eric Cunningham. A song in Haida about the universal beauty and love of the ocean.

Díi Gudangáay uu Síigaay
Íik’waan hlan-gwáay díi uu tlíits’aan
Díi hal kyáagaangs gudánggang.		 I can feel the ocean
No matter where I am on this earth
I hear her calling to me.
Hal sánggang: She says:
Eehl hl díi íijang
Eehl hl díi náanggang!
Eehl díi k'ajúu hlaa! 		Come be with me
Come play with me
Come sing with me
Tajuwáay hl Gáandanggang.
Áayaad luudgán. 		I can feel her sweet salty breeze
All over me.
Díi Gudangáay uu Síigaay
Íik’waan hlan-gwáay díi uu tlíits’aan
Díi hal kyáagaangs gudánggang.		 I can be in the city, I feel her breeze.
I can climb to a mountaintop.
I hear her calling to me!
Eehl hl díi íijang
Eehl hl díi náanggang!
Eehl díi k'ajúu hlaa! 		Come be with me
Come play with me
Come sing with me

There’s Been a Great Injustice

Frederick N. West. Soloists: Alma Villegas and Sondra Segundo-Cunningham. Kent Stevenson (piano), Sid Law (guitar), Fred Winkler (soprano sax), Ernesto Pediangco (congas). There's been a great injustice. It’s time to make it right.

People roam this earth, fleeing trouble and strife.
It’s happened in all times.
None of us is so high, tomorow we may be out on the street.
This is the way of life.
There’s been a great injustice here; make it right!
Treat the stranger with kindness and care;
ask of their story and their song.
Have you been a stranger?
Did someone ever loan you your fare?
We need to help each other get along.
Hand in hand we walk.
There’s been a great injustice here
that’s happened in our time.
It’s happened in the lives of our ancestors dear.
It’s time to make it right.
Surveyor’s stakes and the lowering of the lake
we’ve walked this earth hand in hand
for ten thousand years and countless tears.
There’s fire still deep in the land.
Native women disappear, it happens all the time.
People hear our cry.
Can you imagine their awful fear.
This is a terrible crime.
Now make it right.
Children taken away. Disease ravages the land.
Keep sickness at bay; it strikes each woman and man.
Remember the trail of tears. Cherokees brought low.
Remember Wounded Knee, these people had a soul.
Residential schools, really tore us apart.
We’ve got to bring our children home.
Too many graves unmarked.
Honor native sacred land, now don’t give up the fight.
There’s been a great injustice here;
It’s time to make it right.

Many Rivers to Cross

Jimmy Cliff, arranged and lyrics adapted by Kent Stevenson. We sing this to deepen our empathy of people crossing mountains, rivers, and deserts in search of a better life when their own homes are impossible to live in. We see this as a metaphor for all of us. We have many rivers to cross to heal the schisms that keep us apart.

Many rivers to cross
And I’m determined to find my way over
Wandering I seem lost
As I travel along, approaching the border
Many rivers to cross
And it’s only my will that keeps me alive
I’ve been living in danger for years
And I merely survive because of my pride
And this loneliness won’t leave me alone
It’s such a drag to be on your own
Can’t turn back! And if you ask why
I’m just seeking a better life
Many rivers to cross
And some hills left to climb on freedom’t track
And some wide valleys to cross
And I can’t stop now, no turning back
Yes, I’ve got many rivers to cross
And I just won’t give up, I cannot tire
I will make it at all cost
Freedom burns in my soul, just like a fire

American Tune

Paul Simon, arranged by G. Trujillo. Pat Clayton (first soprano), Miriam Blau (second soprano), Julia Buchan (mezzo), Donene Blair (first alto), Alicia Henson (second alto), Doug Balcom (counter-tenor)

Many’s the time I’ve been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and I’ve often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
Oh, but I’m all right, I’m all right
I’m just weary to my bones
Still, you don’t expect to be bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home
And I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered
I don’t have a friend who feels at ease
I don’t know a dream that’s not been shattered
Or driven to its knees
But it’s all right, it’s all right
For we lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the
Road we’re traveling on
I wonder what’s gone wrong
I can’t help it, I wonder what has gone wrong
And I dreamed I was dying
I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying
And high up above my eyes could clearly see
The Statue of Liberty
Sailing away to sea
And I dreamed I was flying
We come on the ship they call The Mayflower
We come on the ship that sailed the moon
We come in the age’s most uncertain hours
And sing an American tune
Oh, and it’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all right
You can’t be forever blessed
Still, tomorrow’s going to be another working day
And I’m trying to get some rest
That’s all I’m trying to get some rest