Elliott Carter - Across the Yard: La Ignota
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The soprano's bosom breathes the joy of God
Brunnhilde who could not rule her voice for God -
Her stately yellow ivory window frames
Haven't seen paint or putty these twenty years;
Grass, dead since Kennedy, chokes the window box
She has to sing to keep her curtains flying;
One is pink dust flipped back to scarlet lining
The other besmirched gauze; and behind them
A blown electric heater, her footlocker with Munich
Stickers stood upright for a music stand
Her doorbell is dead. No one has to hire her
She flings her high aria to the trash like roses....
When I was lost and green, I would have given
The janitor three months' rent for this address
Brunnhilde who could not rule her voice for God -
Her stately yellow ivory window frames
Haven't seen paint or putty these twenty years;
Grass, dead since Kennedy, chokes the window box
She has to sing to keep her curtains flying;
One is pink dust flipped back to scarlet lining
The other besmirched gauze; and behind them
A blown electric heater, her footlocker with Munich
Stickers stood upright for a music stand
Her doorbell is dead. No one has to hire her
She flings her high aria to the trash like roses....
When I was lost and green, I would have given
The janitor three months' rent for this address
