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The toothache
Классика/Современная • 2015
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For clarinet trio
Название пользователя: The toothache for clarinet trio
Инструменты |
Кларнет |
Состав исполнителей |
Трио |
Тип нот |
Партитура, Партии |
Издатель |
Дэвид Соломонс |
Уровень сложности |
Средний уровень |
Время звучания |
4'20 |
Instrumental arrangement of the song "Charm against the toothache" (also available on this site).
The throbbing of the tooth is heard from the outset.
A video of the vocal version can be found on youtube at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oRecp1wRZzI
The pfd file contains score and parts.
The sound sample is an electronic preview.
The poem by John Heath-Stubbs on which the piece is based are:
Venerable Mother Toothache
Climb down from your white battlements,
Stop twisting in your yellow fingers
The fourfold rope of nerves;
And tomorrow I will give you a tot of whiskey
To hold in your cupped hands,
A garland of anise flowers,
And three cloves like nails.
And tell the attendant gnomes
It is time to knock off now,
To shoulder their little pick-axes,
Their cold-chisels and drills.
And you may mount by a silver ladder
Into the sky, to grind
In the cracked polished mortar
Of the hollow moon.
By the lapse of warm waters,
And the poppies nodding like red coals,
The paths on the granite mountains,
And the plantation of my dreams.
(c) John Francis Alexander Heath-Stubbs
For flute trio
Название пользователя: The toothache for flute trio
Инструменты |
Флейта |
Состав исполнителей |
Трио |
Тип нот |
Партитура, Партии |
Издатель |
Дэвид Соломонс |
Уровень сложности |
Средний уровень |
Время звучания |
4'20 |
Instrumental arrangement of the song "Charm against the toothache" (also available on this site).
The throbbing of the tooth is heard from the outset.
A video of the vocal version can be found on youtube at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oRecp1wRZzI
The pfd file contains score and parts.
The sound sample is an electronic preview.
The poem by John Heath-Stubbs on which the piece is based are:
Venerable Mother Toothache
Climb down from your white battlements,
Stop twisting in your yellow fingers
The fourfold rope of nerves;
And tomorrow I will give you a tot of whiskey
To hold in your cupped hands,
A garland of anise flowers,
And three cloves like nails.
And tell the attendant gnomes
It is time to knock off now,
To shoulder their little pick-axes,
Their cold-chisels and drills.
And you may mount by a silver ladder
Into the sky, to grind
In the cracked polished mortar
Of the hollow moon.
By the lapse of warm waters,
And the poppies nodding like red coals,
The paths on the granite mountains,
And the plantation of my dreams.
(c) John Francis Alexander Heath-Stubbs
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