Anywhere road

by Orlando

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Lydia, we are strangers Wherever we may live. Everything is alien, Nor speaks our language.
I went to heaven - 'twas a small town - Lit - with a ruby - Lathed - with down - Stiller - than the fields At the full dew - Beautiful - as pictures - No man drew - People - like the moth - Of mechlin - frames - Duties - of gossamer - And eider - names - Almost - contented - I - could be - 'mong such unique Society -
Fall, leaves, fall ; die, flowers, away ; Lengthen night and shorten day ; Every leaf speaks to me, Fluttering from the autumn tree. I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow ; I shall sing when night's decay Ushers in a drearier day. (Autumn 1838)
I'm sitting at the door Pleasing my eyes and ears With colours and sounds of the landscape, and I softly sing - for myself alone wispy songs I compose while waiting.
Hush-a-bye, my baby, slumbertime is comin’ soon ; Rest your head upon my breast while mommy hums a tune ; The sandman is callin' where shadows are fallin' While the soft breezes sigh as in days long gone by. Way down in Missouri where I heard this melody When I was just a little baby on my mommy’s knee ; And the old folks where hummin’, the banjos were strummin’ So sweet and low. Hush-a-bye my baby, go to sleep on mommy’s knee, Journey back to Dixieland in dreams again with me ; It seems like your dady is there once again, And the old folks where hummin’ that same old refrain. Way down in Missouri where I heard this lullaby, When the stars were blinkin’ and the moon was shinin’ high, And I hear mamma Cloe, as in days long ago, Singin’ hush-a-bye.
I'm happiest when most away I can bear my soul from its home of clay On a windy night when the moon is bright And the eye can wander through worlds of light - When I am not and none beside - Nor earth nor sea nor cloudless sky - But only spirit wandering wide Through infinite immensity. (February or March 1838)
This is a delicious evening, when the whole body is one sense, and imbibes delight through every pore. I come and go with a strange liberty in Nature, a part of herself. I have my own sun, and moon and stars, and a little world all to myself. (Walden, Solitude)


Orlando : harp, voice, composition

We are strangers / lyrics by Fernando Pessoa
I went to heaven / lyrics by Emily Dickinson
Fall, leaves, fall / lyrics by Emily Brontë
I’m sitting at the door / lyrics by Fernando Pessoa
Missouri Waltz / traditionnal
I’m happiest / lyrics by Emily Brontë
Walden / lyrics by Henry David Thoreau

Photos © Marie Taillefer
Recorded and mixed at Studio Artefax by Bernard Amaudruz


released March 25, 2019


all rights reserved



Orlando La Chaux De Fonds, Switzerland

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