Four Seasons

I love listening to classical music and love even more when the composer gives you a little something extra. Without having any idea of anything, anybody would be able to identify themes and events in Vivaldi's Four Seasons. What makes it even better is that he composed his music to the words of four sonnets by an unknown poet. His music and these poems work together to create such a bright, strong and vibrant visual image that heightens your enjoyment of each season. Take a look and listen.

"La primavera"

Spring has come and with it gaiety,

the birds salute it with joyous song,

and the brooks, caressed by Zephyr's breath,

flow meanwhile with sweet murmurings:

The sky is covered with dark clouds,

announced by lightning and thunder.

But when they are silenced, the little birds

return to fill the air with their song:

Then does the meadow, in full flower,

ripple with its leafy plants.

The goatherd dozes, guarded by his faithful dog.

Rejoicing in the pastoral bagpipes,

Nymphs and Shepherds dance in the glade

for the radiant on-set of Springtime.

"L'estate"

Under the heavy season of a burning sun,

man languishes, his herd wilts, the pine is parched;

the cuckoo finds its voice, and chiming in with it

the turtle-dove, the goldfinch.

Zephyr breathes gently but, contested,

the North-wind appears nearby and suddenly;

the shepherd sobs because, uncertain,

he fears the wild squall and its effects.

His weary limbs have no repose, goaded by

his fear of lightning and wild thunder;

while gnats and flies in furious swarms surround him.

Alas, his fears prove all to grounded,

thunder and lightning split the Heavens, the hailstones

slice the top of the corn and other grain.

"L'autummo"

The country-folk celebrate, with dance and song,

the joy of gathering a bountiful harvest.

With Bacchus's liquor, quaffed liberally,

their joy finishes in slumber.

Each one renounces dance and song,

the mild air is pleasant,

and the season invites ever-increasingly to savour a sweet slumber.

The hungers at dawn go to the hunt,

with horns and guns and dogs they sally forth,

the beats flee, their trail is followed.

Already dismay'd and exhausted, from the great noise

of guns and dogs, threaten'd with wounds,

they flee, languishing and die, cowering.

"L'inverno"

Frozen and trembling among the chilly snow,

expose to horrid winds,

our legs tremble with cold,

our teeth chatter with the frightful cold.

We move to the fire and contented peace,

while the rain outside pours in sheets.

Now we walk on the ice, with slow steps,

attentive how we walk, for fear of falling

If we move quickly, we slip and fall to earth,

again wealking heavily on the ice,

until the ice breaks and dissolves.

We hear through the closed doors

Sirocco, Boreas and all the rushing winds at war-

this winter, but such as brings joy.

I picked videos that didn't have any visuals on purpose- I wanted your imagination to do all the painting....