Reunion Hill

Richard Shindell
Language: English

List of versions

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For Sasha
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To Bobby
(Joan Baez)
(Richard Shindell)

Lyrics and music by Richard Shindell
Testo e musica di Richard Shindell
Album: "Reunion Hill"
Also performed by / Interpretata anche da Joan Baez

"[...]That economy reveals Shindell as an artist of uncommon intuitive gifts, whose verbal brush strokes strategically conjure up more with less. In Reunion Hill, his masterful lament for Joan Baez, Shindell recalls the pain of personal loss in war not by chewing the scenery or overpainting it, but by evoking associations with unremarkable objects and actions. His Civil War widow, ten years later, remembers that ragged army that limped across these fields of mine—not through a macabre body count, but through the everyday objects that the soldiers left behind:

Even now I find their things
Glasses, Coins, and Golden Rings

And she reflects on the loss of her husband not through the particulars of her suffering or the deprivations of war, but through her evanescent last glimpse of the man as he walks across the valley and disappears into the trees.

Shindell’s songs impart visual impressions and additional storyline evidence in support of moral subtexts that lie just below the surface. He never polemicizes though, instead allowing his listeners to draw their own inferences (even though those conclusions are pretty much set-ups). That engages them in more active involvement with the song, adding greater moral force and emotional resonance to Shindell’s message and the listening experience.

(from Richard Shindell - Art Song Courier)
Must’ve been in late September
When last I climbed Reunion Hill
I fell asleep on Indian Boulder
And dreamed a dream I will not tell
I came home as the sun went down
One eye trained upon the ground
Even now I find their things
Glasses, coins, and golden rings

It’s ten years since that ragged army
Limped across these fields of mine
I gave them bread, I gave them brandy
But most of all I gave them time
My well is deep, the water pure
The streams are fed by mountain lakes
I cleaned the brow of many a soldier
Dousing for my husband’s face

I won’t forget our sad farewell
And how I ran to climb that hill
Just to watch him walk across the valley
And disappear into the trees

Along there in a sea of blue
It circles every afternoon
A single hawk in God’s great sky
Looking down with God’s own eyes
He soars above Reunion Hill
I pray he spiral higher still
As if from such an altitude
He might just keep our love in view

2005/9/11 - 00:18

Language: Italian

Versione italiana di Riccardo Venturi
17 maggio 2007

Dev’essere stato alla fine di settembre
Quando sono salita l’ultima volta sulla Reunion Hill.
Mi sono addormentata sul Masso dell’Indiano
E ho fatto un sogno che non vi dico
Sono tornata a casa al tramonto,
Con un occhio fisso al suolo
Ancora adesso trovo le loro cose,
Occhiali, monete e anelli d’oro

Son passati dieci anni da quando quell’esercito in stracci
E’ passato trascinandosi per questi miei campi
Ho dato loro pane, ho dato loro acquavite
Ma soprattutto ho dato loro il mio tempo
Il mio pozzo è profondo, l’acqua è pura,
I ruscelli sono alimentati dai laghi di montagna
Ho pulito con l’acqua la fronte a tanti soldati
Sperando che apparisse il viso di mio marito

Non scorderò mai il nostro triste addio,
E come sono salita di corsa su quella collina
Solo per guardarlo marciare per la valle
E scomparire tra gli alberi

E laggiù, in un mare d’azzurro
Volteggia ogni pomeriggio
Un falco, da solo, nel gran cielo di Dio
E guarda giù con gli occhi stessi di Dio
S’innalza in volo sulla Reunion Hill
E io prego che voli in spirale ancora più in alto
Come se da una tale altezza
Potesse davvero scrutare il nostro amore.

2007/5/17 - 17:13

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