Collegiate Chorale

Gitanjali Chants | text by Rabindranath Tagore, Craig Hella Johnson (b. 1962)

Ever in my life
Have I sought thee with my songs.
It was they who led me from door to door,
And with them have I felt about me,
Searching and touching my world.
It was my songs that taught me all
The lessons I ever learnt;
They showed me secret paths,
They brought before my sight
Many a star on the horizon of my heart.
They guided me all the day long to
The mysteries of the country of pleasure and pain,
And at last to what palace gate have they
Brought me at the end of my journey?
You came down from your throne
And stood at my cottage door.
I was sitting all alone in a corner,
And the melody caught your ear.
You came down and stood at my cottage door
Masters are many in our hall,
And songs are sung there at all hours.
But the simple carol of this novice
Struck at your love.
One plaintive little strain,
One plaintive little strain,
Mingled with the great music of the world,
And with a flower for a prize,
You came down and stopped at my cottage door.
You came down.

Beati Quorum Via | text from Psalm 119, Charles Villiers Stanford (1852-1924)                                          

Latin:
Beati quorum via integra est,
qui ambulant in lege Domini.

English Translation
Blessed are those whose way is blameless,
who walk in the law of the Lord.

Exultate justi | text from Psalm 33, Ludovico da Viadana (c. 1560-1627)

Latin:
Exultate, justi, in Domino;
rectos decet collaudatio.
Confitemini Domino in cithara;
in psalterio decem chordarum psallite illi.‍
Cantate ei canticum novum;
bene psallite ei in vociferatione.

English Translation:
Rejoice in the Lord, O ye just;
Praise befits the upright.

Give praise to the Lord on the harp;
Sing to him with the psaltery, the instrument of ten strings.

Sing to him a new canticle,
Sing well unto him with a loud noise.

Quanta Qualia | text by Andrew Hawes, Patrick Hawes (b. 1958)
        Dr. John Sampen, alto saxophone

Latin:
O anima mea
Mane!
O quanta qualia
Conventus gaudia
Erunt. 

English Translation:
O my soul
Wait!
O how great and how wonderful
the joys of meeting
will be.

Rytmus | text and music by Ivan Hrušovský (1927)

Latin:
Ave Eva                       
fons amoris,                 
tu regina venustatis.    

English Translation:
Be greeted Eve,
you source of love,
you are the queen of nobleness.

Breathe On Me, Breath of God | text by Edwin Hatch, J.T. Rees (1857-1949), arr. Haydn Morgan (1945-2014)

Breathe on me, Breath of God,
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what Thou dost love,
And do what Thou wouldst do.

Breathe on me, Breath of God,
Till I am wholly Thine,
Until this earthly part of me
Glows with Thy fire divine.

Breathe on me, Breath of God,
So shall I never die,
But live with Thee the perfect life
Of Thine eternity.

A Mighty Fortress Is Our God | text and music (attrib.) by Martin Luther (1483-1546), arr. Carl Mueller (1892-1982)

A mighty Fortress is our God,
A Bulwark never failing;
Our Helper He amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing:
For still our ancient foe
Doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great,
And, armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal

Did we in our own strength confide,
Our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side,
The Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be?
Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth His Name,
From age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.

“Suite” de Lorca | text by Federico Garcia Lorca, Einojuhani Rautavaara (1928-2016)
        Zachary Flash, bass soloist
        Alexander Ebright, tenor soloist

I. Canción de jinete

Spanish:
Córdoba. Lejana y sola.
Jaca negra, luna grande,
y aceitunas en mi alforja.
Aunque sepa los caminos
yo nunca llegaré a Córdoba.
Por el llano, por el viento,
jaca negra, luna roja.
La muerte me está mirando
desde las torres de Córdoba.
¡Ay qué camino tan largo!
¡Ay mi jaca valerosa!
¡Ay, que la muerte me espera,
antes de llegar a Córdoba!
Córdoba. Lejana y sola.

English Translation:
Córdoba
Distant and lonely.
Black steed, big moon,
and olives in my saddlebag.
Although I know the roads
I will never reach Córdoba.
Across the plain, through the wind
Black steed, red moon.
Death is staring at me
from the towers of Córdoba.
Oh, how long the road is!
Oh, my valiant steed!
Oh, death awaits me,
before I reach Córdoba.
Córdoba.
Distant and lonely.

IV. Malagueña

Spanish:
La Muerte
entra y sale
de la taberna.

Pasan caballos negros
y gente siniestra
por los hondos caminos
de la guitarra.

Y hay un olor a sal
y a sangre [de hembra],
en los nardos febriles
de la marina.

La muerte
entra y sale
y sale y entra
la muerte
de la taberna.

English Translation:
Death
enters, and leaves,
the tavern.

Black horses
and sinister people
travel the deep roads
of the guitar.

And there’s a smell of salt
and of female blood
in the fevered tuberoses
of the shore.

Death
enters, and leaves,
and leaves, and enters,
death
of the tavern.

Hela Rotan | Indonesian Folk Song, arr. Ken Steven (b. 1993)

Indonesian:
Hela, hela rotan-e rotan-e
Tifa Jawa
Jawa-e ba bunyi

Rotan, rotan sudah putus
Sudah putus ujung dua
Dua bakudapa-e

Mangga mangga muda e manis e
mangga mangga
Datang dari Nila

Nona nona muka manis muka manis
bikin Sinyo
Sinyo jadi gila-e

English Translation:
Pulling, pulling. Rattan vine tug-of-war.
Drum of Java--
Java goes kaboomie!

Rope of "Rotan", it was broken.
It was broken, leaving two ends.
So let's meet, and both shake hands!

Mangos, mangos!  Mangos fresh, mangos sweet!
Come and buy them!
Mangos from Mount Nila!

Young Miss, Young Miss, Lady Sweet-face, Lady Sweet-face.
Men go crazy!
Fine men lose their minds for her!

Shenandoah | American Folksong, arr. James Erb (1926-2014)

Oh, Shenandoah, I long to see you,
Away, you rolling river
Oh, Shenandoah, I long to see you,
Away, I’m bound away, across the wide Missouri.

Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughter
Away, you rolling river
Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughter
Away, I’m bound away, across the wide Missouri.

Oh, Shenandoah, I’m bound to leave you,
Away, you rolling river
Oh, Shenandoah, I’m bound to leave you,
Away, I’m bound away, across the wide Missouri.

The Gift to Be Simple | Traditional Shaker Tune, arr. Bob Chilcott (b. 1955)

The gift to be simple, the gift to be free...

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in a place just right,
't will be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed.
To turn, turn will be our delight,
'Til by turning, turning we come round right.

The gift to be simple, the gift to be free...

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in a place just right,
't will be in the valley of love and delight.

The gift to be simple, the gift to be free...

The Battle of Jericho | Traditional Spiritual, arr. Moses Hogan (1957-2003)
        Kourtney Syrus, conductor
        Madeline Depinet, soprano soloist

Joshua fit the battle, the battle of Jericho
Joshua fit the battle, the battle of Jericho

Joshua fit the battle of Jericho, Jericho, Jericho
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho
And the walls come tumbling down

Talk about your kings of Gideon
Talk about your men of Saul
But none like good old Joshua
And the battle of Jericho
That morning

Right up to the walls of Jericho
He marched with spear in hand
Go blow that ram horn, Joshua cried
Cause the battle am in my hand

God almighty then the lamb ram sheep horn begins to blow
And the trumpets began to sound
And Joshua commanded the children to shout!
And the walls come a tumbling down

Oh Lord, you know that Joshua fit the battle, the battle of Jericho
Joshua fit the battle, the battle of Jericho
Joshua fit the battle, the battle of Jericho
The walls come tumbling down

Peace I Leave with You | text by M. Ryan Taylor, Amy Beach (1867-1944)

Peace I leave with you,
my peace I give unto you:
not as the world giveth, give I unto you.
Let not your heart be troubled,
neither let it be afraid.
Peace I leave with you.

Homeland | text and music by Grace Coberly (b. 1999)

Dear lover, dear friend, see how gentle the night
that warms us from the cold.
When we met, I could swear I had known you before
in a lifetime gentler still.

This is our homeland, our haven in the woods —
familiar shadows, a sky we call our own.
And surely someday, we all will meet again.
In music, we’ll never be alone.

If the night falls too fast, I will seek out the sun
and paint it in the sky.
If the monsters return, I will drive them away
to keep you safe with me.

I will love you until the time I leave you.
But even though the distance grows,
we will never be apart.

This is our homeland, our haven in the woods —
familiar shadows, a sky we call our own.
And surely someday, we all will meet again.

When we’re centuries old and our voices are gone,
we will all come home.

~~intermission~~

University Men’s Chorus

Down to the River to Pray | American Folk Hymn, arr. Christopher Aspaas (b. 1974)
        Will Baughman, conductor
        Quartet: Will Baughman, Dylan Gheen, Cameron Baker & Jaylen Donald

Sing Dem Herrn | Michael Praetorius (1571-1621), arr. Wallace DePue (b. 1932)
        Will Baughman, conductor

German:
Sing dem Herrn!
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Alle lieben Ihn.
Lobe seinen Namen.
Singet mit Tambourin und Harfe. 

English Translation:
Sing to the Lord
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Everyone loves Him
Praise His name
Sing with drums and harp. 

An Die Musik | text by Franz von Schober, Franz Schubert (1797-1828), arr. Craig Courtney (b. 1948)                    Will Hermanowski, conductor

German:
Du holde Kunst, in wieviel grauen Stunden,
Wo mich des Lebens wilder Kreis umstrickt,
Hast du mein Herz zu warmer Lieb entzunden,
Hast mich in eine bessre Welt entrückt!

Oft hat ein Seufzer, deiner Harf entflossen, 
Ein süsser, heiliger Akkord von dir
Den Himmel bessrer Zeiten mir erschlossen, 
Du holde Kunst, ich danke dir dafür!

English Translation:
You, beloved Art, in so my grey hours,
When life’s mad tumult wraps around me,
Have kindled warm love in my heart
And transported me into a better world,
Transported into a better world!

How often a flowing sigh from your harp,
A sweet, divine harmony from you
Unlocked the heaven of better times to me.
You, beloved Art, I thank you for it!
You, beloved Art, I thank you!

Türkisches Schenkenlied | text by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy (1809-1847)
        Alejo Goenaga, conductor
        Quartet: Seth Foth, Dominic Carlozzi, Zachary Ortega, Apollo Bernath

German:
Dem Kellner:
Setze mir nicht, du Grobian,
Mir den Krug so derb vor die Nase!
Wer Wein bringt, sehe mich freundlich an,
Sonst trübt sich der Eilfer im Glase.

Dem Schenken:
Du zierliches Mädchen, du komm herein,
Was stehst du da auf der Schwelle?
Du sollst mir künftig der Schenke sein,
Jeder Wein ist schmackhaft und helle.

English Translation:
To the Waiter:
Don't throw it down, you boor,
pushing the jug so roughly in front of my nose!
He who brings me wine should look at me with friendliness;
otherwise the Eilfer wine grows cloudy in the glass.

To the Innkeeper/Host:
You lovely maiden, come here -
why are you standing there on the threshhold?
You should be my barmaid in the future:
then every glass of wine will be tasty and light.

How Can I Keep From Singing? | text and music by Robert Lowry (1826-1899), arr. Sarah Quartel (b. 1982)
        B. Michael Perry, soloist

My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation,
I hear the real though far-off tune
That hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife,
I hear that music ringing;
It sounds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?

While though the tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
And though the darkness ‘round me close,
songs in the night it giveth.

No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I’m clinging;
Since love is Lord of heav’n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?

I lift my eyes, the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it,
And day by day this pathway smooths
since first I learned to love it.

The peace of love makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing;
All things are mine in love and joy!
How can I keep from singing?

The Lone Wild Bird | text by Henry Richard McFayden, Richard Burchard (b. 1960)                                     

The lone, wild bird in lofty flight
is still with you, nor leaves your sight.
And I am yours! I rest in you,
Great Spirit, come, rest in me, too.

The ends of earth are in your hand,
the sea's dark deep and far off land.
And I am yours! I rest in you,
Great Spirit, come, rest in me, too.

Each secret thought is known to you,
the path I walk my whole life through;
my days, my deeds, my hopes, my fears,
my deepest joys, my silent tears.

Gagòt | text by Gabriel Guillaume, Sydney Guillaume (b.1982)                              

Haitian Creole:
Depi maten m’leve m’ape monte desann,
Mwen kouri toupatou tankou yon chyen ki fou.
Mwen pale, mwen chante, mwen dòmi, Mwen leve;
Mwen priye, mwen rele, se gagòt sou gagòt.

Gagòt isit, gagòt lòtbò.
Gagòt anwo, gagòt anba,
Gagòt toupatou, se gagòt sou gagòt.

Gagòt nan lide mwen,
Gagòt nan zak mwen yo,
Gagòt nan paròl mwen,
Gagòt nan vizyon mwen. 

Tout bagay yo mele:
Lapenn ak lajwa, ledout ak lafwa,
Degoutans ak lespwa, lebyen avèk le mal.
Tèt mwen vire, li vire,
Tout bagay yo mele.
Gad’on  gagòt! 

Maten apre maten, m’ap livre yon batay;
Kontredans lavi-a rekòmanse chak jou.                                           
Mwen chante, mwen danse, Mwen rele: “Viv lavi!”
Bridsoukou sanzatann mwen tounen nan gagòt. 

Nan mitan gagòt sa mwen deside chèche,
Chèche, chèche konnen, konen sa k’ap pase.                                               
Mwen fouye, mwen mande, mwen fini pa trouve
Jouk andedan kè mwen
Solisyon gagòt sa:                                                                      

La vie d’ici-bas est un combat de tout instant                                               
Que l’on ne peut gagner qu’un moment à la fois. 

Apre lannuit se la jounen.                                                         
Apre lapli solèy leve.                                                           
Apre gagòt, apre gagòt… se kè poze.                                 
Se jefò nan soufrans ki pote delivrans. 

Ah! Ainsi soit-il! 

English Translation:
Since I rose this morning I’ve gone through ups and downs,
Running around in circles like a crazy mad dog.
I speak, I sing, I sleep, I rise;
I pray, I scream, it’s mess upon mess.  

It’s a mess here, it’s a mess there, 
A mess up, a mess down,
Mess everywhere, it’s mess upon mess. 

Messy are my thoughts,
Messy are my actions,
Messy are my words,
Messy is my vision. 

Everything is entangled:
Pain and joy, doubt and faith,
Disgust and hope, good and evil.
My head is spinning and spinning,
Everything is entangled.
What a mess! 

Morning after morning, I fight a battle;
The contredanse of life recommences daily. 
I sing, I dance, I yell: “Life is amazing!”
Suddenly and swiftly I am back in a mess. 

In the midst of this mess I decide to search,
To search for an understanding to what is happening.
I dig, I seek, and I finally find
In the very depth of my heart
The solution to this mess: 

Life before death is a battle of every instant
That can not be won but one moment at a time. 

After the night comes the day.
After the rain the sun rises.
After messes, after messes… the heart settles.
It’s striving in suffering that brings  edemption. 

Ah! So be it!  

Sweet Rivers | text by John Adam Granade, William Moore (1790-1850), arr. Reginald Unterseher (b. 1956)

Sweet rivers of redeeming love,
Lie just before mine eyes;
Had I the pinions of a dove,
I'd to those rivers fly.
I'd rise superior to my pain,
With joy outstrip the wind;
I'd cross bold Jordan's stormy main,
And leave the world behind.

Let the River Run | text and music by Carly Simon (b. 1943), arr. Craig Hella Johnson (b. 1962)
        Charles Ligus, djembe
        Trio: Alejo Goenaga, Wesley Yoder, Matthew Steele

Coming to the edge,
Running on the water,

Let the river run,
Let all the dreamers wake the nation.
Come, the New Jerusalem.

Silver cities rise,
The morning lights,
The streets that meet them,
And sirens call them on with a song.

It’s asking of the taking.
Trembling, shaking.
Oh, my heart is aching.

We’re coming to the edge,
Running on the water,
Coming through the fog
Your sons and daughters.

Toreador Song from Carmen | text by Ludovic Halévy & Henri Meilhac, Georges Bizet (1838 - 1875) 
Prof. Keith Phares, baritone

French:
Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre,
Senor, senors car avec les soldats
Oui, les Toreros, peuvent s'entendre;
Pour plaisirs, pour plaisirs,
Ils ont les combats!
Le cirque est plein,
c'est jour de fete!
Le cirque est plein du haut en bas;
Les spectateurs, perdant la tete,
Les spectateurs s'interpellent
a grand fracas!
Apostrophes, cris et tapage
Pousses jusques a la fureur!
Car c'est la fete du courage!
C'est la fete des gens de co
Allons! en garde! Allons! Allons! ah!
Toreador, en garde! Toreador, Toreador!
Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant
Qu'un oeil noir te regarde,
Et que l'amour t'attend,
Toreador, L'amour t'attend!
Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant
Qu'un oeil noir te regarde,
Et que l'amour t'attend,
Toreador, L'amour t'attend!
Tout d'un coup, on fait silence...
Ah! que se passe-t-il?
Plus de cris, c'est l'instant!
Plus de cris, c'est l'instant!
le taureau s'elance
En bondissant hors du Toril!
Il s'elance! Il entre,
Il frappe! un cheval roule,
Entrainant un Picador,
Ah! bravo! Toro! Hurle la foule!
Le taureau va, il vient,
il vient et frappe encore!
En secouant ses banderilles,
Plein de fureur, il court!
Le cirque est plein de sang!
On se sauve, on franchit les grilles!
C'et ton tour maintenant! allons!
En garde! allons! allons! Ah!
Toreador, en garde! Toreador, Toreador!
Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant
Qu'un oeil noir te regarde,
Et que l'amour t'attend,
Toreador, L'amour t'attend!
Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant
Qu'un oeil noir te regarde
Et que l'amour t'attend,
Toreador, L'amour t'attend!
Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant
Qu'un oeil noir te regarde
Et que l'amour t'attend,
Et que l'amour t'attend,
Toreador, L'amour t'attend!
L'amour! L'amour! L'amour!
Toreador, Toreador, L'amour t'attend!

English Translation:
Your toast, I can give it to you
Sirs, sirs, for along with the soldiers
Yes, the Toreros, can understand;
For pleasures, for pleasures
They have combats!
The arena is full,
it is the feast day!
The arena is full, from top to bottom;
The spectators are losing their minds,
The spectators began a big fracas!
Apostrophes, cries, and uproar grow to a furor!
Because it is a celebration of courage!
It is the celebration of people with heart!
Let’s go, en guard! Let’s go! Let’s go! Ah!
Toreador, en guard! Toreador, Toreador!
And dream away, yes, dream in combat,
That a black eye is watching you,
And that love awaits you,
Toreador, love awaits you!
And dream away, yes dream in combat,
That a black eye is watching you
And may love await you,
Toreador, love await you!
All of a sudden, it is silent...
Ah, what is happening?
More cries! It is the moment!
More cries! It is the moment!
The bull throws himself out
Bounding out of the bullpin!
He throws himself out! He enters.
He strikes! A horse rolls,
Dragging a picador,
Ah, Bravo! Bull! The crowd roars!
The bull goes, he comes,
He comes and strikes again!
Shaking his dart-stabbed neck,
Full of fury, he runs!
The arena is full of blood!
They save themselves, they pass the gates
It is your turn now. Let’s go!
En guard! Let’s go! Let’s go! Ah!
Toreador, en guard! Toreador, Toreador!
And dream away, yes, dream in combat,
That a black eye is watching you,
And that love awaits you,
Toreador, Love awaits you!
And dream away, yes, dream in combat,
That a black eye is looking at you
And that love awaits you
Toreador, love awaits you!
And dream away, yes, dream in combat,
That a black eye is looking at you
And that love awaits you
And that love awaits you.
Toreador, love awaits you!
Love! Love! Love!
Toreador, Toreador, love awaits you!

Harriet Tubman | text by Eloise Greenfield, Rollo Dilworth (b. 1970)
        Charles Ligus, djembe; Zachary Ortega, electric bass

Harriet Tubman didn’t take no stuff;
wasn’t scared of nothing neither.
Didn’t come in this world to be no slave
and wasn’t going to stay one either.

“Farewell,” she sang to her friends one night.
She was mighty sad to leave ‘em.
But she ran away that dark, hot night
Ran looking for her freedom.

She ran to woods and she ran through the woods,
with the slave catchers right behind her;
And she kept on going till she got to the North
where those mean men couldn’t find her.

Nineteen times she went back South
to get three hundred others.
She ran for her freedom nineteen times
to save Black sisters and brothers.

Harriet Tubman didn’t take no stuff
wasn’t scared of nothing neither.
Didn’t come in this world to be no slave
and wasn’t going to stay one either,
And didn’t stay one either.

And didn’t stay one either.

Shout Glory! | text and music by Byron Smith (b. 1960)
        Giovanni Castiglione, soloist

Where can I go? What can I do?
When the road gets rocky, don’t know what to do.
What can I say that will see me through?
I shout glory! Glory, glory to the Lord, shout glory to You.

Walking through life, can’t find my way.
Just don’t know which way to go, don’t know what to say.
Who can I turn to, to show me the way?
I shout glory! Glory, glory to the Lord, shout glory today.

He has changed my life, He has turned me around.
He’s my Father and my Savior.
He has turned my path into smoother ground.
I can call Him any day. Oh!

O we sing, glorify the Lord!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Shout glory, glory hallelujah!
Shout glory, glory to His precious name!

Shout glory!
Glory, glory to the Lord shout glory to You!
Shout glory!

Traditional Songs of the BGSU Men’s Chorus:

Brothers, Sing On! | text by Herbert Dalmas, Edvard Grieg (1843-1907), arr. Howard D. McKinney (c. 1890-1980)                                                                      

Come and let our swelling song mount like the whirling wind,
As it meets our singing throng, so blithe of heart and mind.
Care and sorrow now begone, Brothers in song, sing on!
Brothers, sing on, sing on!

Youth is a wandering troubadour, sailing the singing breeze,
Wooing a maid on a distant shore, over the tossing seas;
Steering by the stars above, his vessel a song of love.
Brothers, sing on, sing on!

Errant minstrels, thus we greet you, list to our voices strong.
With glad and open hearts we meet you in our festival of song.
Care and sorrow now be gone, Brothers in song, sing on!
Brothers, sing on, sing on!

Forward Falcons | text by Sidney L. Freeman, Wayne Bohrnstedt, arr. Will Baughman (b. 1992)         
        Will Baughman, conductor

Forward Falcons,
Forward Falcons,
Fight for victory.

Show our spirit,
make them fear it,
Fight for ol’ Bee Gee.

Forward Falcons,
Forward Falcons,
Make the contest keen.

Hold up the fame of our mighty name, and win for
Bowling Green

Bowling Green State University Alma Mater | text and music by Edith M. Ludwig, arr. John M. Hyde

Alma Mater hear us,
As we praise thy name
Make us worthy sons and daughters
Adding to thy fame.
Time will treat you kindly

Years from now you'll be
Ever dearer in our hearts,
Our University.

From your halls of ivy
To the campus scene,
Chimes ring out with gladness
From our dear Bowling Green.
When all is just a mem'ry

Of the by-gone days,
Hear our hymn dear Alma Mater
As thy name we praise.