Expert: David Froom - 3/4/2006

Question
Hello Mr. Froom . ..

(1) Could you perhaps suggest a piece of classical/orchestral music that conveys a mood of "satiation"?

(2) It's the feeling of having had enough (or even too much . . .?) of something pleasureable.

(3) I'm imagining this music would most likely be a programmatic piece . . . maybe something from opera, ballet, or film.

Thank you, Malcolm Watt (San Diego)  

Answer
Dear Malcolm,

I'm sure there are many, but two come immediately to mind, both quite famous.  

First, the fifth song from Gustav Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde.  The poetry was ancient Chinese, then translated and adapted to German.  Below is a translation of the German Mahler used.

Second, there is a part of Carmina Burana (by Carl Orff) that is about gluttony.  It is song #14 in that work.  It was in Latin, and I provide a translation of that below.

You might also do a Google search for Music and "the seven deadly sins".  I think I remember that there are works that depict these (maybe one by Leonard Bernstein?).

Here is an English translation of Mahler's text, followed below by an English translation of Orff's text.  Happy listening! David Froom

If life is only a dream,
why then the misery and torment?
I drink until I can drink no more,
the whole, dear day!

And when I can drink no more,
because my stomach and soul are full,
I stagger to my door
and sleep very well!

What do I hear when I awake? Listen!
A bird singing in the tree.
I ask him whether it is spring -
it's like a dream to me.

The bird twitters, "Yes! Spring
is here, it has come over night!"
With deep concentration I listen,
and the bird sings and laughs!

I fill my goblet afresh
and drain it to the bottom
and sing, until the moon shines
in the dark firmament!

And when I can sing no more,
I fall asleep again,
for what does Spring mean to me?
Let me be drunk!


Here is the text from Carmina Burana (translated from latin):

14. In taberna quando sumus (When we are in the tavern)


When we are in the tavern,
we do not think how we will go to dust,
but we hurry to gamble,
which always makes us sweat.
What happens in the tavern,
where money is host,
you may well ask,
and hear what I say.

Some gamble, some drink,
some behave loosely.
But of those who gamble,
some are stripped bare,
some win their clothes here,
some are dressed in sacks.
Here no-one fears death,
but they throw the dice in the name of Bacchus.

First of all it is to the wine-merchant
the libertines drink,
one for the prisoners,
three for the living,
four for all Christians,
five for the faithful dead,
six for the loose sisters,
seven for the footpads in the wood,

Eight for the errant brethren,
nine for the dispersed monks,
ten for the seamen,
eleven for the squabblers,
twelve for the penitent,
thirteen for the wayfarers.
To the Pope as to the king
they all drink without restraint.

The mistress drinks, the master drinks,
the soldier drinks, the priest drinks,
the man drinks, the woman drinks,
the servant drinks with the maid,
the swift man drinks, the lazy man drinks,
the white man drinks, the black man drinks,
the settled man drinks, the wanderer drinks,
the stupid man drinks, the wise man drinks,

The poor man drinks, the sick man drinks,
the exile drinks, and the stranger,
the boy drinks, the old man drinks,
the bishop drinks, and the deacon,
the sister drinks, the brother drinks,
the old lady drinks, the mother drinks,
this man drinks, that man drinks,
a hundred drink, a thousand drink.

Six hundred pennies would hardly
immoderate suffice, if everyone
drinks immoderately and immeasurably.
However much they cheerfully drink
we are the ones whom everyone scolds,
and thus we are destitute.
May those who slander us be cursed
and may their names not be written in the
book of the righteous.