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Rats of Oran
10:18
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Who sees the sea? No one knows.
Beyond the gates, closed in clenched claws
Our end, Oran, through the lines, ‘round the sun
Our endless rising, you cannot escape, you cannot.
Oran, when will you die?
(by JK, inspired by Anna Greki)
Rats, emerge from the streets and they rot
Blood seeps infection
Michel, the first to die, the bulging eyes
Black flesh, the ganglia, a raging thirst
Time, is all we’ve got left and it slips
Hope fades away
Cottard, chalk on the door, a secret shame
This fear, consuming a life, jail of the mind
Abscess, lanced with a knife, the oozing pus
Say it, the symptoms are clear, we face the plague
Pleading, arms outstretched, she’s dripping red
Night air, the menacing breeze, now shut the gates
Proclaim the plague
(by SH)
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2. |
The Plague
09:09
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Fever boils
As their eyes fell on stigmata
A dreary gaze incriminates
An inquiry of quarantine under contingency
The fantasy of your escape
You’re not alone
You lost your mind
You have no time
You could not hear
Broken cries of grief
Blood, frogs, lice, flies, pestilence,
boils, hail, locusts, darkness, firstborn slain
(by JK, inspired by Passover Seder)
Trapped within Oran
Memory serves no purpose
How long can this go on?
They beg for mercy
One grows out of pity
When it’s useless
A plague sent for your sins
No, Rambert, you can’t escape these walls
Let me go, let me go
There’s no chance in hell
Inside this town, these gates, this mind
What am I, what am I?
Must I stay and die?
(by SH)
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3. |
A Common Grave
12:13
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The nameless shrouds
Must be cast into the pit
Rich and poor alike
Find no rest in a common grave
The smell of quicklime bubbles
Bursting in the air
Disintegrate what’s left of who you were
There’s nothing but the dirt we share
(Mijil by Mangkunegara IV from the Salokatama 16)
Kayektine pangkat ageng alit
Kang luhur kang asor
Sugih miskin kabeh sasamane
Yen ginulung sarta den condhongi
Adoh kang sok serik
Cedhak sukanipun
Translation: (Soesatyo Darnawi)
(Actually people of high rank or low
Who are glorious or servile
Rich or poor, are all the same
If we could all live together
Dissatisfaction would fade away
And people would be happier)
The suffering of a child
The bread of our affliction
Accept or deny everything
Detect, condemn, what choice do I have?
To know or to cure, a life or a soul?
The weight of my exhaustion, a blessing in disguise
I can’t feel the fire, though it burns
(by SH)
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Sean Hayward Los Angeles, California
A composer, performer, researcher, lecturer, and ethnomusicologist based in Surakarta, Central Java and Los Angeles, California. I love making new and interesting combinations of seemingly unrelated sounds, often to tell stories. Some of my favorite sounds include calung Banyumas, Javanese gamelan, minimalist music, Balkan folk, extreme metal, and ancient tuning systems. ... more
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