Mesopotamian Night 2009 DVD / CD is now available for sale. The retail price is $30. This a perfect holiday gift. The proceeds from the sales of this product directly goes into general funds of AAS-A which are used to support Assyrian causes in Iraq and else where.
Assyryt DVD Trailer:
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Mesopotamian Night 2009 DVD/CD to be released for Christmas
Finally after four months of hard work by the MJC film department the DVD for Mesopotamian Night 2009 was sent for production and will be released soon for Christmas. Below is the cover for this new and unique product. We decided to provide all three CDs and two DVDs from the event in one set. This product is a must have in all Assyrian households. The pricing and order information will be posted soon.
CD 1: Classical Music & Opera
- The Assyryt Suite No.1
- The Opera Qateeni
CD 2: Classical Music & Opera
- The Mesopotamian Choir Ensemble
Nation Sacrifices
Vacant Nineveh
- The Gilgamesh Oratorio
- Lorraine Davis
Spinning Wheel
Maiden of Dreams
- The Opera Gilgamesh
The Death of Enkidu
The Lament of Gilgamesh
- The Mesopotamian Choir Ensemble
Nation
CD 3: Pop Music
- Lida Lawando
Dooroon
Yimmi
Nahrin Shawqaly
- Emanouel Bet-Younan
Tasheeta (Deyouta)
Aqarta Qa Yima
Rghashyateh
Khamta D'Khoolmanee
Ya Bnai Atour
Sunday, November 29, 2009
NINOS AND SHAMIRAM: An Assyrian Operetta
The love story of Shamiram and Ninous and the legend of Semiramis will come alive in Mesopotamian Night 2010 concert fund raiser. AAS-A Central Valley Chapter is commissioning the creation of an operetta based on a poetry piece by Rabi Yosip Bet Yosip. More updates will be posted later.
Below is a translation of the poems by Dr. Arianne Ishaya.
Poems by: Yosip Bet Yosip
English Translation by: Dr. Arianne Ishaya
Grazing on the green hilltop was a flock of sheep. As I watched, I saw a maiden approaching clad in a lad’s attire. It was that of a shepherd’s. She blew her whistle, and all her sheep came together.
I went towards her to quench my thirst. My eyes gazed upon a beauty that has not existed either on this earth, or in legends. My tired body rejuvenated with a life-giving force, and I addressed her:
“Greetings to you O shepherdess, you who are the bloom of this valley. I have come in search of prey; but have found neither game nor water. I need to rest my tired body.”
Instead of water, she gave me milk from the sheep. From under her eyelids, she observed me; the pearls of her teeth, she hid behind her lips. Her long braids, she tossed over her shoulders.
Before I could drink the milk from the earthen jar, weakness overtook my body, and my thoughts flew as if into a dreamland. The jar fell from my numbed hands. I begged her forgiveness for what had happened. The pearls of her teeth appeared from behind her lips and the jewel of her eyes hid under her eyelashes. The love of this mountain maiden enveloped my heart and led me to ask her, without much hope, who was the master of her splendid beauty.
“I’m too young to be married.” She said. “I take care of my father and mother, and make a living from the milk of my sheep. I spend my days in these mountains and valleys.”
I pleaded with her to either let me stay with her and learn to be a shepherd, or for her to descend with me to the plain below where my priestly family lived. Or else, to take my life with her bow and arrow. She replied:
“I am a mountain girl; but you are from a prominent family. Here the winters are very harsh. The mountains are full of snowstorms and gusty winds. I have been dedicated to Goddess Ishtar. I have lived here from my childhood. An old father and a mother are all that I have. I have never been away from them in my life. But I will come with you for your love has pierced my heart too. Tell me your name; who are you, and where have you come from to this valley?”
“My name is Ninos, the son of the high priest, Nahrin. From the city of Nineveh I have ascended to this mountain range.
“Ninos, the son of the high priest Nahrin?” She repeated. “Then you are not a hunter of fowl or game. You are a shepherd like me: I, of flocks; you, of people.”
“Queen of beauty of these hills, what is your name?” I asked.
“I am named after a dove. It is said that many years ago, a white dove had made a nest in one of the caves in the mountain. They say that the dove, with powerful wings, used to fly for hours in our blue sky. Like children that swim joyfully in waters blue and serene, she too used to swim and play in the blueness of our sky.
It is also said that during one of the winter nights when the snow had covered the earth and the surrounding mountains, hiding the glorious peaks under its leveling white blanket, and when the clear, calm sky had closed its lid over the earth, suddenly the dwellers of these valleys heard the sound of a bird flapping its wings in that cold and clear night as it flew over their village. The villagers poured out of their dwellings in a hurry to find the reason behind the flapping of wings over their roofs. In their amazement they saw the white dove racing in alarm above the village roofs as though announcing the approach of an event. Shortly after, they heard the cry of a baby coming from the mountain hut of the village shepherd. They hastened towards the hut to help the mother; for they had remembered that she was expecting and the delivery date had arrived. She had no one to help her except for the village shepherd.
They say one day, when I was a baby, people watched as the dove came down and perched on my cradle. She nested on my chest for many hours. During this last visit she left a small white feather on my chest, and then she flew high towards the distant horizon never to be seen again. I have kept that feather in the hope that when the time comes, this small white feather will lead me to my dove in the remote space above.
That is why they decided to call me “Shamiram”, which means ‘A Name Exalted’.
About Yosip Bet Yosip
Yosip Bet Yosip was born in 1942 to Korush Bet Yosip and Anna Khoshaba Bet Yosip in the village of Zumalan, a suburb of Urmia, Iran.
Early in his youth, Yosip learned about the Assyrian culture through listening to Assyrian folk songs, poetry, and story-telling conducted by the local elders. This is when his love for the Assyrian culture and heritage was originated.
Yosip joined ‘Shooshata Umtanaia’ (The Society of Assyrian National Progress), a well-known Assyrian youth organization which helped to promote the Assyrian culture by honoring known Assyrian historical events such as the Assyrian New Year and Assyrian Mother's Day. Yosip assisted ‘Shooshata Umtanaia’ in assembling the first and largest library of Assyrian books ever collected in the modern Assyrian history.
In 1960 Yosip joined the Nineveh Choir group conducted by maestro Nebu Issabey in Tehran, Iran where the group performed numerous concerts in Tehran and Abadan. His membership in ‘Shooshata Umtanaia’ and later his presidency of the same organization paved his way to a membership in the ‘Assyrian Youth Cultural Society’ (Sita Sapreta).
In 1968, Yosip, a selected member of the ‘Shooshata Umtanaia’ was introduced to the political aspects of the Assyrian history and witnessed the birth of an international political organization to oversee the well being of his beloved Assyrian nation, the ‘Assyrian Universal Alliance (AUA)’.
The Assyrian Universal Alliance (AUA) had requested of Assyrian composers the writing of an Assyrian National Anthem. Maestro Issabey was one of many who had contributed to this project with one of his compositions that included the lyrics of Yosip Bet Yosip. This National Anthem was selected and ordained by the AUA, and the Assyrian American National Federation (AANF) and spread its use.
Today, Yosip lives in Turlock, California, in the United States of America.
AAS-A Central Valley Chapter is honored to work with Rabi Yosip our renowned Assyrian poet to bring alive the legend of Semiramis the Queen of Assyria as an Assyrian Operetta.
Below is a translation of the poems by Dr. Arianne Ishaya.
Poems by: Yosip Bet Yosip
English Translation by: Dr. Arianne Ishaya
Grazing on the green hilltop was a flock of sheep. As I watched, I saw a maiden approaching clad in a lad’s attire. It was that of a shepherd’s. She blew her whistle, and all her sheep came together.
I went towards her to quench my thirst. My eyes gazed upon a beauty that has not existed either on this earth, or in legends. My tired body rejuvenated with a life-giving force, and I addressed her:
“Greetings to you O shepherdess, you who are the bloom of this valley. I have come in search of prey; but have found neither game nor water. I need to rest my tired body.”
Instead of water, she gave me milk from the sheep. From under her eyelids, she observed me; the pearls of her teeth, she hid behind her lips. Her long braids, she tossed over her shoulders.
Before I could drink the milk from the earthen jar, weakness overtook my body, and my thoughts flew as if into a dreamland. The jar fell from my numbed hands. I begged her forgiveness for what had happened. The pearls of her teeth appeared from behind her lips and the jewel of her eyes hid under her eyelashes. The love of this mountain maiden enveloped my heart and led me to ask her, without much hope, who was the master of her splendid beauty.
“I’m too young to be married.” She said. “I take care of my father and mother, and make a living from the milk of my sheep. I spend my days in these mountains and valleys.”
I pleaded with her to either let me stay with her and learn to be a shepherd, or for her to descend with me to the plain below where my priestly family lived. Or else, to take my life with her bow and arrow. She replied:
“I am a mountain girl; but you are from a prominent family. Here the winters are very harsh. The mountains are full of snowstorms and gusty winds. I have been dedicated to Goddess Ishtar. I have lived here from my childhood. An old father and a mother are all that I have. I have never been away from them in my life. But I will come with you for your love has pierced my heart too. Tell me your name; who are you, and where have you come from to this valley?”
“My name is Ninos, the son of the high priest, Nahrin. From the city of Nineveh I have ascended to this mountain range.
“Ninos, the son of the high priest Nahrin?” She repeated. “Then you are not a hunter of fowl or game. You are a shepherd like me: I, of flocks; you, of people.”
“Queen of beauty of these hills, what is your name?” I asked.
“I am named after a dove. It is said that many years ago, a white dove had made a nest in one of the caves in the mountain. They say that the dove, with powerful wings, used to fly for hours in our blue sky. Like children that swim joyfully in waters blue and serene, she too used to swim and play in the blueness of our sky.
It is also said that during one of the winter nights when the snow had covered the earth and the surrounding mountains, hiding the glorious peaks under its leveling white blanket, and when the clear, calm sky had closed its lid over the earth, suddenly the dwellers of these valleys heard the sound of a bird flapping its wings in that cold and clear night as it flew over their village. The villagers poured out of their dwellings in a hurry to find the reason behind the flapping of wings over their roofs. In their amazement they saw the white dove racing in alarm above the village roofs as though announcing the approach of an event. Shortly after, they heard the cry of a baby coming from the mountain hut of the village shepherd. They hastened towards the hut to help the mother; for they had remembered that she was expecting and the delivery date had arrived. She had no one to help her except for the village shepherd.
They say one day, when I was a baby, people watched as the dove came down and perched on my cradle. She nested on my chest for many hours. During this last visit she left a small white feather on my chest, and then she flew high towards the distant horizon never to be seen again. I have kept that feather in the hope that when the time comes, this small white feather will lead me to my dove in the remote space above.
That is why they decided to call me “Shamiram”, which means ‘A Name Exalted’.
About Yosip Bet Yosip
Yosip Bet Yosip was born in 1942 to Korush Bet Yosip and Anna Khoshaba Bet Yosip in the village of Zumalan, a suburb of Urmia, Iran.
Early in his youth, Yosip learned about the Assyrian culture through listening to Assyrian folk songs, poetry, and story-telling conducted by the local elders. This is when his love for the Assyrian culture and heritage was originated.
Yosip joined ‘Shooshata Umtanaia’ (The Society of Assyrian National Progress), a well-known Assyrian youth organization which helped to promote the Assyrian culture by honoring known Assyrian historical events such as the Assyrian New Year and Assyrian Mother's Day. Yosip assisted ‘Shooshata Umtanaia’ in assembling the first and largest library of Assyrian books ever collected in the modern Assyrian history.
In 1960 Yosip joined the Nineveh Choir group conducted by maestro Nebu Issabey in Tehran, Iran where the group performed numerous concerts in Tehran and Abadan. His membership in ‘Shooshata Umtanaia’ and later his presidency of the same organization paved his way to a membership in the ‘Assyrian Youth Cultural Society’ (Sita Sapreta).
In 1968, Yosip, a selected member of the ‘Shooshata Umtanaia’ was introduced to the political aspects of the Assyrian history and witnessed the birth of an international political organization to oversee the well being of his beloved Assyrian nation, the ‘Assyrian Universal Alliance (AUA)’.
The Assyrian Universal Alliance (AUA) had requested of Assyrian composers the writing of an Assyrian National Anthem. Maestro Issabey was one of many who had contributed to this project with one of his compositions that included the lyrics of Yosip Bet Yosip. This National Anthem was selected and ordained by the AUA, and the Assyrian American National Federation (AANF) and spread its use.
Today, Yosip lives in Turlock, California, in the United States of America.
AAS-A Central Valley Chapter is honored to work with Rabi Yosip our renowned Assyrian poet to bring alive the legend of Semiramis the Queen of Assyria as an Assyrian Operetta.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Special Christmas Even from AAS-A Santa Clara Chapter
Sunday, October 25, 2009
AAS-A 2010 Calendar Now Available
AASA-LA Chapter has created a beautiful calendar for 2010. You can order your copy from us online on this website.
Mother Teresa was once quoted as saying" If you can't feed 100 people, then feed just one". Can you find it in your heart to help just one person?
AAS has printed a beautiful calendar with the pictures of our children in Atra, for the year 2010. The price of a Calendar is only $10.
Below are a few samples of the months of our calendar. We would like to see this calendar and its message in the homes of every Assyrian/Chaldean/Syriac around the world.
Mother Teresa was once quoted as saying" If you can't feed 100 people, then feed just one". Can you find it in your heart to help just one person?
AAS has printed a beautiful calendar with the pictures of our children in Atra, for the year 2010. The price of a Calendar is only $10.
Below are a few samples of the months of our calendar. We would like to see this calendar and its message in the homes of every Assyrian/Chaldean/Syriac around the world.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Newer Vesrion of Assyryt DVD trailer with choir
Our video crew at MJC film department has given us a slightly modified version of "Assyryt: The Assyrian Diamond" DVD. This trailer now includes a scene from the Mesopotamian Choir Ensemble".
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
A Sample from Qateeni Opera
Michel Bosc the composer of the Qateeni Opera has created the following sample from the recorded performances at the Mesopotamian Night 2009. The CD and DVD of this historic event will soon be available.
New CD/DVD: Assyryt: The Assyrian Diamond
It is a pleasure to announce to the Assyrian community and all enthusiasts of Assyrian music and culture that the DVD/CD product from the Mesopotamian Night 2009 concert fundraiser is almost ready. In the meantime enjoy the following trailer for the DVD. The details will be announced later. The DVD is named "Assyryt: The Assyrian Diamond" in honor of late Rabi Paulos Khofri and his beautiful music suite "Assyryt" which was composed in 1984 in Tehran.
Monday, August 31, 2009
In Memory of Rabi William Daniel
The memories of Mesopotamian Night 2008 and the celebration of the music of William Daniel is again revived with the following clip from Victor Davoody. Once the DVD of the Mesopotamian Night 2009 is out we will have more clips to celebrate the art, music, and poetry of this Assyrian legend.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Mesopotamian Night 2009 Slideshow
The production of CD/DVD from the Mesopotamian Night 2009 is in progress. In the mean time enjoy a slideshow from the concert. The photos are courtesy of Ashur Mansour.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
VIEW FROM BACKSTAGE
By Obelit Yadgar
Overall the 2009 Mesopotamian Nights Gala concert at the Galo Center for the Arts in Modesto, California, was a success. The program was presented by the Assyrian Aid Society of America (AAS-A) to raise funds for needy Assyrians in Iraq.
With the first half of the program devoted to Assyrian music in the western classical tradition and the second half to Assyrian popular music, there was something for everyone in the audience. In between, the auctioning of Assyrian art gave the crowd not only the opportunity to support Assyrian artists, but also to do its part to help Assyrians in need.
Assyryt Suite No. 1 by French composer Michel Bosc opened the program. Bosc had orchestrated some 20 piano pieces by the Assyrian composer Paulus Khofri into his suite. For this concert, the suite was to have been performed in two 10-piece sets as Assyryt Suites Nos. 1 and 2, at the beginning and then the end of the first half in that order. Because of time constraints, Suite No. 2 was eliminated from the program. Assyryt Suite presented the heart and soul of Khofri’s music with Bosc’s fine orchestral writing.
Bosc was no less successful in his operatic writing with the Overture and Act I of Qateeni Gabbara. Set to a libretto by Tony Khoshaba, this opera in progress is based on the Epic of Qateeni Gabbara by the noted Assyrian writer and composer, the late William Daniel. Although the soloists were not of Assyrian heritage, with Yosip Bet Yosip’s coaching, they delivered a fine performance of the opera in Assyrian.
I was especially impressed with coloratura soprano Shawnette Sulkter, in her role as the Stranger, for her sweet tone and emotional sensitivity. The other soloists were Artistic Director Raeeka Shehabi-Yaghmai, mezzo-soprano, as the Widow; John Bischoff, bass, as Malik Toma; Mathew Edwardsen, tenor, as Qateeni; and Torlef Alika Borsting, baritone, as Giliana. Guest Conductor John Kendall Bailey led the Gottschalk Music Center Orchestra.
Later, in the Duet of Gilgamesh and Enkidu, from John Craton’s opera Gilgamesh, Borsting, as Gilgamesh, and Edwardsen, as Enkidu, delivered strong performances. Also an opera in progress, excerpts from Gilgamesh premiered at the 2008 Mesopotamian Nights gala concert and were well received.
The Mesopotamian Choir Ensemble, prepared by Rev. Samuel Khangaldy, performed songs by Paulus Khofri and Nebu Issabey, in John Craton’s orchestration. These were tender nationalistic songs given a sensitive interpretation by the choir despite an occasional rough edge staying with the orchestra.
Assyrian soprano Lorraine Davis gave a memorable performance of two William Daniel songs orchestrated by John Craton. Davis has a rich and mature voice with a dark and moody thread running through it. This quality, framed in a good sense of phrasing, makes her voice and style ideal for interpreting Assyrian songs. What’s more, she floats comfortably between solo piano and orchestral accompaniment. I would love to see her record a whole range of lovely songs by Khofri, Daniel, Issabey and scores of other Assyrian composers.
The second half was devoted to Assyrian popular music. Lida Lawando’s best effort was her acappella performance, and Emanouel Bet-Younan spotlighted his taste for sensitive lyrics and lush orchestral writing.
I have saved for last what I felt was the highlight of the evening’s musical offering: the overture from the Oratorio Gilgamesh by Reverend Samuel Khangaldy. I might add I was even surprised, although I admit I had never heard Rev. Khangaldy’s music. Some 15 minutes or so in length, this is a marvelous piece of orchestral music in the way it colors the Assyrian themes in brush strokes of European Romantic.
Gilgamesh Oratorio, according to Rev. Khangaldy, will be written in 15 parts, covering the entire epic of Gilgamesh, and will be offered in Assyrian and English versions. I can’t wait to hear the work when it is completed. In the meantime, if I may be so bold, I would like to make a suggestion to Rev. Khangaldy:
Turn this Gilgamesh Oratorio Overture into a symphonic poem and compose a much shorter overture for the oratorio. This gorgeous music has all the elements of a symphonic poem: a one-movement orchestral composition with a program and in a free musical form. Lizt, Tchaikovsky, Smetana, Sibelius and many other composers wrote beautiful symphonic poems. Why not the Assyrian composer Samuel Khangaldy?
I believe Gilgamesh Overture is strong enough to stand on its own, and I can easily hear it soaring in a performance by a major orchestra. I also suggest the overture be included in next year’s performance of Mesopotamian Nights Gala concert.
Not everything was positive in this year’s program, of course, as can be expected from an event of this magnitude. As the master of ceremonies and program music annotator, I felt the first half was too long and exhausting with the amount of music crammed in. That, however, was a minor fault when compared to the excessive number of speeches.
Although delivered by worthy people, I believe the speeches killed the sparkle in the show. They disrupted the tempo and the flow. I have nothing against speeches, whether accepting awards or for worthy causes, but please save them for another time and get on with the show.
I realize these are growing pains for a remarkable attempt in presenting Assyrian music in concert form. I know in future years quality programming that is well paced will be something we Assyrians can be proud of.
Obelit Yadgar
Master of Ceremonies and music program annotator
Obieyadgar.com
Overall the 2009 Mesopotamian Nights Gala concert at the Galo Center for the Arts in Modesto, California, was a success. The program was presented by the Assyrian Aid Society of America (AAS-A) to raise funds for needy Assyrians in Iraq.
With the first half of the program devoted to Assyrian music in the western classical tradition and the second half to Assyrian popular music, there was something for everyone in the audience. In between, the auctioning of Assyrian art gave the crowd not only the opportunity to support Assyrian artists, but also to do its part to help Assyrians in need.
Assyryt Suite No. 1 by French composer Michel Bosc opened the program. Bosc had orchestrated some 20 piano pieces by the Assyrian composer Paulus Khofri into his suite. For this concert, the suite was to have been performed in two 10-piece sets as Assyryt Suites Nos. 1 and 2, at the beginning and then the end of the first half in that order. Because of time constraints, Suite No. 2 was eliminated from the program. Assyryt Suite presented the heart and soul of Khofri’s music with Bosc’s fine orchestral writing.
Bosc was no less successful in his operatic writing with the Overture and Act I of Qateeni Gabbara. Set to a libretto by Tony Khoshaba, this opera in progress is based on the Epic of Qateeni Gabbara by the noted Assyrian writer and composer, the late William Daniel. Although the soloists were not of Assyrian heritage, with Yosip Bet Yosip’s coaching, they delivered a fine performance of the opera in Assyrian.
I was especially impressed with coloratura soprano Shawnette Sulkter, in her role as the Stranger, for her sweet tone and emotional sensitivity. The other soloists were Artistic Director Raeeka Shehabi-Yaghmai, mezzo-soprano, as the Widow; John Bischoff, bass, as Malik Toma; Mathew Edwardsen, tenor, as Qateeni; and Torlef Alika Borsting, baritone, as Giliana. Guest Conductor John Kendall Bailey led the Gottschalk Music Center Orchestra.
Later, in the Duet of Gilgamesh and Enkidu, from John Craton’s opera Gilgamesh, Borsting, as Gilgamesh, and Edwardsen, as Enkidu, delivered strong performances. Also an opera in progress, excerpts from Gilgamesh premiered at the 2008 Mesopotamian Nights gala concert and were well received.
The Mesopotamian Choir Ensemble, prepared by Rev. Samuel Khangaldy, performed songs by Paulus Khofri and Nebu Issabey, in John Craton’s orchestration. These were tender nationalistic songs given a sensitive interpretation by the choir despite an occasional rough edge staying with the orchestra.
Assyrian soprano Lorraine Davis gave a memorable performance of two William Daniel songs orchestrated by John Craton. Davis has a rich and mature voice with a dark and moody thread running through it. This quality, framed in a good sense of phrasing, makes her voice and style ideal for interpreting Assyrian songs. What’s more, she floats comfortably between solo piano and orchestral accompaniment. I would love to see her record a whole range of lovely songs by Khofri, Daniel, Issabey and scores of other Assyrian composers.
The second half was devoted to Assyrian popular music. Lida Lawando’s best effort was her acappella performance, and Emanouel Bet-Younan spotlighted his taste for sensitive lyrics and lush orchestral writing.
I have saved for last what I felt was the highlight of the evening’s musical offering: the overture from the Oratorio Gilgamesh by Reverend Samuel Khangaldy. I might add I was even surprised, although I admit I had never heard Rev. Khangaldy’s music. Some 15 minutes or so in length, this is a marvelous piece of orchestral music in the way it colors the Assyrian themes in brush strokes of European Romantic.
Gilgamesh Oratorio, according to Rev. Khangaldy, will be written in 15 parts, covering the entire epic of Gilgamesh, and will be offered in Assyrian and English versions. I can’t wait to hear the work when it is completed. In the meantime, if I may be so bold, I would like to make a suggestion to Rev. Khangaldy:
Turn this Gilgamesh Oratorio Overture into a symphonic poem and compose a much shorter overture for the oratorio. This gorgeous music has all the elements of a symphonic poem: a one-movement orchestral composition with a program and in a free musical form. Lizt, Tchaikovsky, Smetana, Sibelius and many other composers wrote beautiful symphonic poems. Why not the Assyrian composer Samuel Khangaldy?
I believe Gilgamesh Overture is strong enough to stand on its own, and I can easily hear it soaring in a performance by a major orchestra. I also suggest the overture be included in next year’s performance of Mesopotamian Nights Gala concert.
Not everything was positive in this year’s program, of course, as can be expected from an event of this magnitude. As the master of ceremonies and program music annotator, I felt the first half was too long and exhausting with the amount of music crammed in. That, however, was a minor fault when compared to the excessive number of speeches.
Although delivered by worthy people, I believe the speeches killed the sparkle in the show. They disrupted the tempo and the flow. I have nothing against speeches, whether accepting awards or for worthy causes, but please save them for another time and get on with the show.
I realize these are growing pains for a remarkable attempt in presenting Assyrian music in concert form. I know in future years quality programming that is well paced will be something we Assyrians can be proud of.
Obelit Yadgar
Master of Ceremonies and music program annotator
Obieyadgar.com
Thursday, August 20, 2009
The official photos of Mesopotamian Night 2009
The photos of Mesopotamian Night 2009 are available at the link below (Courtesy of Ashur Mansour the official photographer of the event).
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.508254302531019.109459.112246138798506&type=3
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.508254302531019.109459.112246138798506&type=3
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Award winning director to produce MN2009 DVD
It is a pleasure to announce that Ms. Carol Lancaster Mingus the director of MJC Department of Television and Film will be producing the DVD for the Mesopotamian Night 2009 concert. Ms. Mingus was present at the event with her large camera crew and recorded the event from different angles and conducted quite a large selection of interviews.
About Carol Lancaster Mingus
Currently an instructor of Television and Film Production at Modesto Junior College, Carol Lancaster Mingus received her BA Degree in Radio and Television from the University of Arizona. Prior to joining the faculty in 1993, Carol served as Senior Coordinating Producer for local programming at KVIE in Sacramento and as a producer-director at KUAT in Tucson, Arizona. In her tenure with PBS she produced and directed a variety local programming and won several awards for her documentaries, promotional campaigns and was nominated for a regional Emmy Award for directing.
Over the last sixteen years Carol has guided the MJC Department of Television and Film into becoming one of the premiere Media Arts Departments in the state. The program offers intense “hands-on” training, and the opportunity to become a staff member of a professional production company. Plankwalker Studios is a full service, on-campus, student run, video production company and under her direction several of their commissioned projects have won national awards for their clients.
Her teaching position combined with the state-of-the-art facilities at Modesto Junior College has enabled Carol to share with her students, her talents and her absolute passion for producing and directing television and film projects. Most recently Carol produced and directed a documentary, San Francisco’s Broken Promise which was accepted into three California Film Festivals and has been featured on KTEH-TV in San Jose and on Free Speech TV on Cable.
The latest project for Carol Lancaster Mingus and Plankwalker Studios is "Mesopotamian Night 2009"!
About Carol Lancaster Mingus
Currently an instructor of Television and Film Production at Modesto Junior College, Carol Lancaster Mingus received her BA Degree in Radio and Television from the University of Arizona. Prior to joining the faculty in 1993, Carol served as Senior Coordinating Producer for local programming at KVIE in Sacramento and as a producer-director at KUAT in Tucson, Arizona. In her tenure with PBS she produced and directed a variety local programming and won several awards for her documentaries, promotional campaigns and was nominated for a regional Emmy Award for directing.
Over the last sixteen years Carol has guided the MJC Department of Television and Film into becoming one of the premiere Media Arts Departments in the state. The program offers intense “hands-on” training, and the opportunity to become a staff member of a professional production company. Plankwalker Studios is a full service, on-campus, student run, video production company and under her direction several of their commissioned projects have won national awards for their clients.
Her teaching position combined with the state-of-the-art facilities at Modesto Junior College has enabled Carol to share with her students, her talents and her absolute passion for producing and directing television and film projects. Most recently Carol produced and directed a documentary, San Francisco’s Broken Promise which was accepted into three California Film Festivals and has been featured on KTEH-TV in San Jose and on Free Speech TV on Cable.
The latest project for Carol Lancaster Mingus and Plankwalker Studios is "Mesopotamian Night 2009"!
Comments about Mesopotamian Night 2009
Narsai David, President of AAS-A:
"I want to congratulate you on the fine production Saturday night in Modesto. Like so many in the audience said afterward, it was simply stunning to hear opera in Assyrian, a truly memorable moment for all Assyrians who hear it. And the oratorio, I cannot express to you what a thrill it was to hear. I cannot wait to hear it again on a disk. Congratulations, you should be very proud of the Mesopotamian Nights success. Many many thanks for all of your hard work as well as that of the chapter volunteers. Bravo!"
Sam Madoo, An Assyrian musician from LA:
I can't tell you how much I loved the first half of the program. The music composed by Michel was spectacular. The orchestration and harmony was just breath taking...
Hilda Kanon, from San Jose:
I am sure I am not the first one or the last to offer you Congratulations and Thank you on a job well done. It was again an amazing evening! We especially enjoyed the symphonic part in the first half. The compositions were so warm and inviting...so full of eastern warmth and harmony. The second half was very moving as well ... I am full of hope that your vision and actions will help awaken this nation to recognize it's artist and preserve it's culture and identity.
You make us start anticipating what's for next year !! We are proud of you and proud to call you Aakhonna b Oomtaa.
Helen Talia, from Chicago:
It was a pleasure taking a part in a big event ~ "The Enchanted Mesopotamian Night". I am still talking to people about it. I appreciate everything, more than I can express in words.
Maryam Pirayou:
I would like to thank you and all those who were involved in the production of this wonderful event. It takes a lot of time, energy, and hard work. Great job and thank you.
Christine Faulkner:
The event was amazing, and you all should be very proud of pulling off such an event.
Dr. Alex Malik, from Sacramento:
Congratulations to the Central Valley Chapter. The event was truly a success. You guys really did a great job. The AAS now has 3 annual events that will continue to set the bar higher and higher for all other Assyrian events. Great job!
Dr. Vian Yonan:
Congratulations on the third annual Mesopotamian Night, it was quite memorable ...
Mona Malik, from San Francisco:
I truly enjoyed the evening, specially the first segment before the intermission. The Gilgamesh Oratorio music was beautiful, the Mesopotamian Choir were great and the orchestra as a whole were fantastic ...
Peter Bityou, from Chicago:
Congratulations to Tony; Fred and entire Central Valley chapter members for their dedication and hard work, which made the Mesopotamian Night 2009 event an exceptionally successful one. Your hard work, commitment and resilient contributed to the success of the event ...
Robert Mulhim, from Chicago:
I add my voice to the rest of the AAS BOD family and congratulate you guys on a job well done! Please pass along our sincere appreciation to all those who worked so hard in making such an event successful including what we refer to as the 'Unknown Soldiers' who normally work behind the scenes.
Ninva Yonan, from LA:
My family and I had a great time. It was so entertaining that both of my children (4years, 11 years), were quiet and entertained for the entire evening. Thank you all for such a memorable cultural evening. We were so glad to be part of it.
John Anderson:
...We had a wonderful evening at the Gallo Center. The entertainment was out of this world. Neither one of us would have missed it for the world. Thanks so much for insisting we participate in such a worldly event. Again thanks so much for hospitality ...
Helen Talia, from Chicago:
"Nothing failed to remind us of the legacy of "Qateeni Gabbara" that the late William Daniel has left behind. An original production, hosted by the Assyrian Aid Society ~ Central Valley Chapter, was presented in an Opera and backed by ...an Orchestra. Yet nothing prepared the audience on the evening of the Mesopotamian Night for the five audacious performers who annunciated every word in the Assyrian language. If rocks could cry, they did on the evening of August 15th in Modesto. . . not a single person was not moved ~ either shedding tears, shifting back and forth in their seats, or clearing their throats."
Irene Bet-Daniel, from Virginia:
I am writing to you to show my admiration and respect for your devotion to the Assyrian Aid. May God bless you and all those who are working with you for this noble cause.
Qateeni Opera: ACT I text
The Opera Qateeni
Based on the epic poem Qateeni Gabbara
By William Daniel
Composer: Michel Bosc
Libretto preparation by: Tony Khoshaba
Translation by: William Warda
Transliteration by: Avrahim Giliana
Diction By: Yosip Bet Yosip
Scene 1 – 1
Story Teller (Giliana):
Ptee-khi va soop-ra rvee-kha, A vast table was spread,
Go qass-ra d'Too-ma, In Tooma's castle.
Jim-yi-va aal-ma ra-ba, Where a large crowd had gathered,
Min mdee-ta v'zoo-ma. From the resort and the town.
Khvar-diq-ni tee-vi shtee-qi, The white bearded sat silent
Bttee-ni btakh-man-ta. Filled with thoughts.
Gab-ba-ri ree-shay kee-pi, The braves had their head bent
B'ah-val khish-shan-ta. In distraught.
mood mar-ra cool-la-na-ya, What contagious disease
Biy-ye tpee-qi va. Did they all have?
Mood khish-sha va knoosh-ya-ya, What common sorrow,
D'lgikh-ka khnee-qa va. Chocked off their laugh?
Ah soop-ra msham-ha v'diy-ya, This famous table
Go aat-ra-va-ti. Known in several lands,
Min-ni pal-ttee va va-di, Where countless brave deeds
D'gab-ba-roo-ya-ti. Had begun.
Ta-lim-ta d'kham-ra smoo-qa, The jar of the red wine
B'av-ra va btar-ra. Would enter through the door
Min lee-na l'soop-ra w'lba-ra, From the barrel and beyond
D'la qya-ta l'ar-ra. It would not touch the floor
Sho-ra va mee-da l'ee-da, It would bounce from hand to hand
Mat-to sa-poo-qi, Pouring its contents
Har-hoo-ri gikh-ka khdee-ta, Giggling, laughing, having
Poom-mo man-shoo-qi. Pleasure in being kissed on the lips.
Id-yoom oop ay khash-shan-ta, Today she too was sad,
L'kis Ma-lik tiv-ta, Sitting by Malik
Le va bij-va-ja msho-po, Not moving at all
Makh qa-ttoo siv-ta. Like an elderly cat.
Mood mkhoo-ta va sa-van-ta, What awful tragedy
D'mookh-riv-la l'kai-pay, Had destroyed their fun?
Mood it-ya sa-tta-na-ya, What devilish creature
Moos-mee-li l'gikh-cay? Had silenced their laugh?
Qa-moo-dee le toon shim-yi, Why! Haven’t you heard
Boot khar-vi kha-ti, Of the new destruction
D'moom-ttee-la Shid-da mid-ri, The monster inflicted
L'na-shi v'lkhai-va-ti. On the people and the beasts?
Akh d'in noo-ra d'gee-han-ni, As if the hell fires
L'sad-ro bis-ta-ra, Were tearing up her chest
Chma-ya ley va bich-ma-ya, Could not be extinguished
Bsha-qee-ta v'na-ra. By rivers and creeks.
L'sa-vo la msee-loon mat-ree, Not even the seas
oop la ya-ma-ti. Could quench her thirst.
Dim-mi va ay bib-ba-ya, Blood was what she craved for
Av d'ya-li v'bna-ti. Of young men and maidens.
B'khai-la d'khir-sho la mtakh-mi, By her boundless magic power
Ptil-la goor-vis-la. She grew big and wide.
It-ya la khzee-li rakh-mi, No creature felt her mercy
Cad l'madb-kho blis-la. All on her altar died.
Gab-bä-ri dvee-khi d'ga-na, How many more young braves
Hal ee-man aa-zee, Should leave
Sho-qee lya-lay w'lbakh-ta-tay, Abandoning their wives and kids
Go bikh-ya v'ta-zee. In tears and in grief.
Joon-ja-ra d' khiy-yal d'Too-ma, The agony of Tuma's plight
Kyoo-la lit-va-loon, Had no end
Sha-dir mid-ri gab-ba-ri, If more young men he sent
Qo-ma d'mit-va-loon. They too might die.
Mo-ta har bit aa-tee va, Death will arrive
Ha-da yan had-kha. One way or another.
Qttee-li Too-ma bree-ya-nu. In his mind Tuma decided
L'ma-roo-mu qat-kha, To raise the cup.
Mlee-li ca-sa min kham-ra, He filled the cup with wine,
W'lgab-ba-ri khir-ri, And stared at the mighty
L'ai chyat-ta spir-ta diy-yi, His awaited declamation
Ban khab-ri zmir-ri: He conveyed with this song:
Malik Tooma's invitation:
Ma-nee li av gab-ba-ra, Who is the mightiest man
Av gaw-ra d'gaw-ra d'da-ra, The mightiest of this time?
D'ma-khi m'dish-ta v'bar-riy-ya, Who will cross the plains and deserts
M'al room-ta m'go gal-liy-ya. The valleys and the highlands.
Ă„-vir min al ttoo-ra-ni, Will pass over the mountains
Min doo-ka-ni sa-va-ni. And all the awful places.
M'akh gee-ra mtee-kha sa-tti, Soar like an arrow in flight
L'gan-na-ti d'Shid-da ma-tti. To reach the monster's orchards.
L'mal-ka-ni boosh sham-mee-ni, The most fertile farmlands
L'kar-ma-ni an boosh qee-ni. And the greenest of the fields.
Shid-da ttlee-ta ma-tchikh-la, Find the monster as it sleeps
W'qish-ti al-lo pa-tikh-la. Beat her till death
Shlad-do b'oom-qi da-ree-la, Dump her body in the deeps
Bgee-han-na mai-ca d'tee-la. Into the hell from where she emerged,
Pa-tikh l'ca-va-ti d'miy-ya, Open up the water dams
Makh-khi l'at-ra bar-riy-ya. Give new life to dying lands.
Kha-zin-ni Av gab-ba-ra, Can I see this mighty man
Av gaw-ra d'gaw-ra d'da-ra. The greatest man of our age
D'qazh-dir l'av khoob-ba sha-ti, Who will dare to drink this toast
D'zil-li qo-ma d'la aa-ti." That he may leave but not return?"
Story Teller (Giliana):
Cad hish bra-qa-lid zmoo-ri, The echoes of his song
Le va shil-yi mzan-goo-ri, Had not yet died out
Kin-sha shpikh-li go dar-ta, When a crowd spilled into courtyard
Biz-ma-ra l'aa-ha zmar-ta: Singing this other song.
Scene 1 – 2
Singers (Choir):
"Kha khzee-moon l'aa-too-ra-ya, Behold the Assyrian,
Min ttoo-ra-ni bis-la-ya, Coming down from the highland
Cool kha roov-shi kha dra-ya, He is tall his shoulders wide
ar-ra khoo-ti bitt-ba-ya, The earth sinks beneath his stride
Qa-ttee-ni qatt-tti too-ri. Qateeni the mountain leaper
Sad-ri shoo-sha d'a-vee-ni, His chest is strong as stone
Sha-tee-li kham-ra b'lee-ni, He drinks wine by barrels
It kha b'ga-va d'ash-shee-ni, Is there one among the braves
D'pa-lish am-ma d'Qat-tee-ni? Who will fight with Qateeni?
Qat-tee-ni qatt-tti ttoo-ri. Qateeni the mountain leaper.
In it gaw-ra zar-ba-na, If there is a mighty man
D'aa-siq l'ttoo-ra sa-va-na, Who can ascend the frightful peak
Ma-khi l'zar-ra d'sa-tta-na; Defeat the devilish creature
Aa-ha li av mas-ya-na. This is the only one,
Qat-tee-ni qatt-tti ttoo-ri. Qateeni the mountain leaper."
Story Teller (Giliana):
W'ha Qat-tee-ni bee-va-ra. As Qateeni enters
W'al-ma qav-voo-khi. The crowd gasps
W'qam d'av qo-ma gab-ba-ra, Before his mighty body
Tar-ra gam-boo-khi. The door collapses
Qateeni:
"B'shla-ma ow-rin yan b'pla-sha, Should I enter for fight or for peace,
Ya Kha-lee Too-ma? My uncle Tuma?
Bay-yin d'par-qakh l'doo-ra-sha, I want this quarrel to cease
Har id-yoom yoo-ma." On this very day".
Malik Tooma:
"b'shai-na tee-lookh khwar-zay-yi, Welcome my nephew
Bshai-na v'bash-la-ma. In peace and tranquility
B'ttaw-ta av ba-bee da-yee, Come forward
Ta-lookh la-qa-ma." With blessing my beloved.
Qateeni:
"M'qam d'qab-lit-lee b'dra-na-nookh, Before I am welcomed
Day-ya-na d'am-mi. Oh judge of the people
Bay-yin d'sham-min b'ri-ya-nookh, Declare verdict in the case
Boot kha-tookh ttam-mi." of your sister's disgrace.
Malik Tooma:
"Ta toov shmee-li boo-qa-ra, Come sit, and hear the question
D'joom-man-li id-yoo. That brought us together today
Bkhar-ta b'dar-shakh l'ee-qa-ra, Later the virtues
Dkha-tee Koo-rik-mu." Of my sister Kurikmu we will discuss.
Qateeni:
"He-miz-ma-ni sha-pee-ri, Beautiful words
Le na mal-ya-ni, Are not enough
D'bas-mee l'lib-va-ti tvee-ri, To mend the shattered hearts
W'makh-khee l'mo-ta-ni. Or to resurrect the dead.
Lak-ka d'shim-ma vd'ee-qa-ra, Insults to honor and name
D'nkhip-ta kee may-yi, Which bring forth shame
Akh-chee c'aa-ti liq-qa-ra, Can only be cleansed
Bi-iad ttee-ma d'khay-yi. By the payment of life.
Yan saq-ma-na yan sqee-ma, The accuser or the accused,
Cool d'ma-ri gna-ha, Whoever is at fault
B'ee-dee bit pa-yish tee-ma, Shall be punished by my hand
Ya-min b'Al-la-ha." I swear to God."
Malik Tooma:
"Boot shim-ma dikh-ya d'kha-tee, About the innocence of my sister
L'bah-ra vin plee-tta, I have been enlightened
Khir-ba moop-rim-la qa-tee, After being misled by
Kha niq-va lit-ta." A cursed woman."
Story Teller (Giliana):
It-va bil am-ma tee-vi, Sitting among the nobles
Kha Niq-va nookh-rai-ta, Was a stranger
Da-yim min lib-bo khree-va, From her wicked heart
Bish-ta biss-la-ya. Ceaselessly dripping evil
Stranger:
"Pin-da-na vit makh ta-la," “You are tricky as a fox.
D'bshitt-ri bay-yit liq-tta-la, With flattery you want to kill
Lboo-cha ya-too-ma. The bastard orphan.
Yan k'ho-yad lib-bookh rgid-li, Or may be your heart trembled
Mpitt-kha d'pit-yoo-nu, Because of his broad shoulders
D'bee-lookh biad khab-rid shid-li, Therefore with false words of praise
Shai-pit lkhizh-boo-nu. His claims you hope to erase.
Yoor-khad qo-ma vd'sha-qa-ni, Length of body and limbs
Ap in nee-shan-qa, Though symbols of youth
Bno-shei le na mal-ya-ni, Are not solely enough
D'ba-ni kha jvan-qa." To make a man.”
Malik Tooma:
"Tchoom l'av pům-makh shikh-ta-na, "Shut your filthy mouth
Khriv-ta d'bar-riy-ya, The depraved of the desert
Da-ya la dee-lee aa-na, I never found out
Mai-ca vat tee-ta." Where you came from.”
Stranger:
Aa-na har ai nish-sha van, ''I am the very woman
D'yoo-vil-to van rä-ei, Who gave you my advice
W'lai d'am-mookh big-ra-sha van, For putting up with you
Doo vit bip-ra-yee." You are paying me thus."
Malik Tooma:
"Ra-yakh akh-lee min ree-shakh, To hell with you
Tlooq min qam pa-tee, And your advice
Yan moor moo-dee-va nee-shakh, Tell me of your aim
Go qis-sat d'kha-tee. In my sister's case.
In priq-lan m'ah Ga-han-na, If we ever survive the hell
D'bree-shan bis-la-ya, Looming over our head,
Dee-va-nakh bid ow-din-na, be warned stranger,
Dee ya nookh-rei-ta." I will decide your fate
Qateeni:
"Dee-va-nookh Tooma Kha-lee, Don't let your judgment err
Khil-tti la hass-la, My uncle Tuma.
Min ba-ba l'broo-na k'sa-lee, From father to the son
Cool zid-qi d'as-la. All rights are inherited.
Khsheekh-ta la ai lpoor-aa-na, She deserves to earn her pay
D'pil-kha-na vee-da, For what she has done
W'bid qab-la la ah da-na. And shall receive it right away
W'har b'aa-ha ee-da. By this very hand."
Story Teller (Giliana):
W'lti-vil-ta d'sho-ta-poo-ta, The leach of the society,
L'par-san-ta d'mar-ra." And the spreader of disease,
Qa-ttee-ni har bkha mkhoo-ta, Qateeni with one blow
Bli-sa-li l'ar-ra. Smashed her on the floor.
Ttbee-la oop ah qa-vam-ta, All this event sank
Go ya-ma d'da-na. In the ocean of time
Akh-chee pish-la hoom-zim-ta, But it is only remembered
B'lott-ta lsa-tta-na." When the devil is cursed.
Story Teller (Giliana):
Ca-sa aa-tee-qa d'da-va, The old cup of gold
Ma-lik kha-sha-na, The sad Malik,
Mlee-li min kham-ra sa-va, Filled with old wine
Khil-ya makh sha-na. Sweet and fine.
Ca-sa go ee-di qim-li, Cup in hand he stood
W'lgab-ba-ri khir-ri, Staring at the nobles.
Qa-li bqas-ra goor-gim-li, His voice thundered in the castle
B'ay zmar-ta d'zmir-ri: As he shared this song:
Scene 1 – 3
Malik Tuma’s Song:
"Ma-nee li av gab-ba-ra, Who is the mightiest man
D'la lip-li d'da-yir l'ba-ra. The man who will never retreat
Qad-kha d'shtee-lee sha-tee-li. Who will drink a cup with me
Har b'kha bee-na mas-pee-li. Here now for all to see
Shva-ra d'shvir-ree sha-vir-ri, Who will take the stride that I took
Poog-da-nee la ta-vir-ri. Whatever I command he will do
Ma-khi min at-ra siy-ya, He will travel from dry land
D'la miy-ya d'la mar-riy-ya. Dry of water and pastures
Aa-zil l'ttoo-ra sa-va-na, Cross the frightful mountain
Ree-shi qree-ma go 'na-na. His head wrapped in gloom
Shid-da ttlee-taa ma-chikh-la, Find the monster as she sleeps
Qish-ti al-lo ma-tikh-la. with his arrows bring about her death
cham-chim-la l'oom-qi shlad-do, Dump her body in the deeps
Ta-likh loon bar-ro w'sad-do. Wreck its dams and levies
Shap-khee go at-ra miy-ya, Let once more the water flow
Khay-yi mid-ri bar-riy-ya. Revive again the desert below
Ga-bi min car-mo may-yi, Pick from its garden and bring
Kha khpa-qa gil-la d'khay-yi. An armful of the plant of life
Av d'pa-tikh l'ay-na smee-ta, That restores a blindman’s sight
B'rei-khi ra-ish oop mee-ta. It’s smell revives those who died.
Ma-nee l'av khoob-ba bsha-ti, Who will drink to the love
Zil-li qav-ma d'la aa-ti. That he may leave but not return to?
Ma-nee-li av gab-ba-ra, Who is the brave man
Av gav-ra d'gav-ri d'da-ra?" The bravest one of this time?
Story Teller:
Ai-ga Qa-ttee-ni gav-ra, Then Qateeni the great
Qav-moo makh-khoo-yi sav-ra. Whose presence inspired hope
Hoom-zim-li, b'ee-di ca-sa, Held up his cup and spoke
Shish-li bei-ta mshoo-ta-sa. And shook foundation of the house
Amir: and said
Qateeni's Song:
"Ma-lik ha aa-na,
am-mookh lish-ta-yoo ma-na, I will drink the cup with you
Bsho-rin-ni shva-ra d'shvir-rookh, Will take the stride you took
Btam-mim-min min-dee d'mir-rookh. Will accomplish what you say.
La dish-ya-ti d'la miy-ya, Neither the lands without water
La av noo-ra d'bar-riy-ya. Nor the fires of the desert
La ttoo-ra-ni sa-va-ni, Not the frightful mountains
La ee-too-ta d'sa-tta-ni, Not the existence of devils
W'la as-qoo-ta go shvee-la, Or the burden of the task
Roo-khee le mak-chikh-khee-la. Will ever tire my soul.
B'as-qin b'ttoo-ra d'makh-va-ti, I will ascend the mount of affliction
Oop in khree-za b'skin-ya-ti. Even if studded with blades
M'qam sai-pee broo-na d'bir-qa, From my sword, the breed of lightning,
Shid-da le mas-ya ar-qa. The monster cannot escape.
Bit rap-pin b'oom-qi shlad-do, I will dump her corpse in well
Bit tal-khin bar-ro w'sad-do. Will wreck her dams and spells
Mlee-moon-li ca-see spee-qa, Fill up my empty cup
M'av kham-ra boosh aa-tee-qa. With the oldest wine
Sha-tin l'av khoob-ba goo-ra, Which I'll drink to the greatest love
D'qa-mi ra-gid oop ttoo-ra. That shakes even the mountains.
Ee-na kha-lee moor ma-lookh? But my uncle tell me what is wrong
Qa-moo ay-nookh lkee-za-lookh? Why did you wink your eye?
Ttoov-va d'min qam d'aa-zin-va, I wish I knew the secrets of your heart
L'ttish-va d'lib-bookh kha-zin-va. Before I depart.
Scene 1-4
Qateeni:
Gaw-ri cash-shee-ri w'zree-zi, The ever-ready heroic braves
L'kha-doo-ri d'soop-ra khree-zi, Sitting around this table
Ca-so-khoon vei-na bree-zi, Your cups are pretty dry
Ca-so-khoon dsee-ma v'da-va. Your cups of silver and gold.
Qa-mu qa-lo-khoon shtee-qa? Why are your voices hushed?
Qa-mu ran-go-khoon ree-qa? Why do you all look pale?
Qa-mu ca-so-khoon spee-qa? Why do you all look pale?
Hish le-li tee-man khra-va. We’ve not yet been crushed.
Sha-takh l'av khoob-ba goo-ra, Let's drink to the greatest love
Khai-la-na mcool is-soo-ra, Stronger than all bonds
D'nttee-ran-li l'aa-ha do-ra, Which has saved us to this day
Av khoob-ba d'ba-ba sa-va." The love of our ancestors.
Qateeni Continues:
"M'qam d'aa-zin lit-pa-qa b'ai Shid-da te-man-ta, Before I depart to confront the terminator shidda
Kha-loo-vee shmee sa-pin biy-yookh khda he-man-ta. My uncle listen to you I entrust a request
Ha yim-mee ar-mil-ta go be-ta nookh-ra-ya, My widowed mother in another land
Bikh-kha-ya khoot shim-ma av d'yim-ma d'kha ra-ya, Lives as the mother of a herder
Go khish-sha w'ool-sa-na va-re-nä yoo-ma-no, and in sorrow are passing her days
Min il-ta d'kha boo-sa d'khak-ma min san-ya-no. Because of a malicious scheme of her foes
Ttla gav-ri zar-ba-ni bit shad-rit may-yee-la, You will send three mighty braves to bring her back
Min gil-li rei-kha-ni gad-lit-la kha klee-la. Fashion her a crown from scented flowers
Boot shim-mo av dikh-ya w'dee-qa-ro d'la moo-ma, About her pure name and he spotless honor
Pshee-qa-eet qa al-ma bit ga-lit O Too-ma! You will tell all o, tuma
Qa shav-va yoo-ma-ni b'ya-vookh vin va-da, You have seven days to do this
W'in b'mit-kha d'ah zow-na la too-mim-lookh l'wa-da, But if you fail to do it in seven days
Ai-ga kha-lee kha-lee khash-vin ga-nookh mee-ta, Then my uncle consider yourself dead
Mqam khim-tee le khal-sit b'ga-va d'aa-ha bree-ta." You will have no place to hide in this world.
Giliana:
Ma-tta-la d'Qa-ttee-ni priz-la va kha qitt-aa, Qatteeni's shield made from one metal sheet
B'maj-goon-ya-ti d'nkha-sha maz-ri-cha-na lqee-tta. Was studded with many colorful beads
Kham-sha jvan-qi zakh-mi boosh zakh-mi d'go at-ra, Five strong men, the grandest of all
La msee-loon l'maj-voo-jo min ar-ra oop nit-ra. Could not lift it a bit from the ground
Dviq-li bi sim-ma-li w'al riv-shi tun-tir-ri, He threw it on his shoulder by left hand
Khaz-ya-ni b'oo-ja-ba cool kha b'shva-voo khir-ri. On-lookers were truly amazed then
Singers (Choir):
Had-kha khai-la d'dra-na La khzee-lan hal id-yoom Till now this kind of strength we haven't had,
Khee l'aa-lam Qa-ttee-ni gaw-ra vit min shra-ra, Live for ever Qateeni you are mighty
L'aa-nee d'go khish-ca-na at maz-riq-qit ba-ra. Shed light on those in darkness trapped
Ha le la boot diy-yookh d'rshim-te-la b'ctiv-ya-tan, Isn't you about whom our books have foretold?
D'bid aa-ti bid pa-si l'yal-loo-dan l'yal-ta-tan? That shall come to free the young and the old?
Giliana: (explaining the Widow and Qateeni encounter)
M'gee-ba-ni khoor-dee-loon Qa-ttee-ni Gab-ba-ra, From all sides people gathered around Qatteeni the brave
Cad l'sai-pu l'ma-tta-lu wl'jvan-qoo-tu bikh-qa-ra. Praised his shield, his youth, and his sword
Ha khak-ma kha-poo-ttu la qa-ma aal nee-shi, Some encouraged him to go forth
Cad khee-ni bee-ma-ru d'la a-zil kha b'no-shi. Others warned him not to go alone
Khda bakh-ta ta-ma va d'ar-mil-ta v'yim-ma va, There was a woman , a widow and mother
Boot tla-qa d'tray bnoo-no lib-bo doom-dim-mi va. Her hearth aching for her two sons
Moo-khab-no tee-la boot da gav-ra sha-ree-ra, She felt pity for the faithful young man
Joo-rib-la l'mak-loo-yu b'kha qa-la ma-ree-ra. And tried to stop him with a sad voice
Cad brik-ta qam aq-lu w'go pa-tu bikh-ya-ra, As she knelt in front of him and looked at his face
Bno-nei-ta v'par-pal-ta had-kha va bee-ma-ra: She begged him and implored and she spoke:
Widow: (trying to stop Qateeni from going)
"Door min oor-khookh Qa-ttee-ni, goo-ra-li khai-la d'dizh-min, Go back Qatteeni Great is the enemy’s might
Khoosh o-ree shin-ni khee-ni, bzar-ba boosh goo-ra chak-bin. Let some years go by Prepare for a hard fight
al pa-tookh ay d'kha ya-la, hish lit mab-yoo-ni shkhoom-ta, On your face of a boy There is not yet sign of beard
Khoos-ra-na le-ti l'kya-la, d'tal-qa bnoov-vo ah qoom-ta. It would be a great loss If this young stature disappear
Lit khizh-boo-na id-yoo-ma, kma gab-ba-ri kma zakh-mi, Up to now we have lost count Of many mighty and brave
Me-loon aal madb-kha koo-ma, madb-kha d'Shid-da d'la rakh-mi." that the black altar of Sheeda Became their grave
Qateeni:
"Hitch la zad-yat yim-mee, Don’t fear my mother
At la gash-qat l'shin-nee, Don’t judge me by my youth
k'ho-ya d'la-vin msham-ha gab-ba-ra, I may not be a famous hero
Ee-na la qoov-vim-la, But has not yet happened
D'ga-va d'had-kha mam-la, in such situation
Qa-ttee-ni m'oor-khoo da-yir l'ba-ra. that Qatteeni ever From his goal retreats
Shmee l'aa-ha mo-mee-ta, Listen to this oath
B'dkha-ra d'ba-bee mee-ta, By the memories of my deceased father
Mttee-li yoom kha-ra-ya d'brat shee-da. This is the last day of the monster's daughter
Hish yoo-man la gin-ya, Before the day’s end
Hish sa-ra la tin-ya, Before the moon returns
Mai-ta bid mai-ta ay b'ah ee-da." By these hands she shall die
Widow:
Ttoov-van-ta la ay yim-ma, w'khash-kha pai-sha moo-rim-ta, Blessed is your mother, deserves to be praised
D'had-kha zar-ri maq-qim-ma, d'ha-vee poor-qa-na l'oom-ta.
That such a son she has raised, Who will bring salvation to a nation
Lib-va-tan bttee-ni b'sloo-ta, am-mookh da-yim bit ha-vee, Our hearts full of prayers, Will always be with you
Bitt-la-ba b'nas-see-khoo-ta, d'cool-lay oor-kha-tookh sha-vee. We ask that your road be smooth, You indeed are the one
At ee-vit sha-ree-ra-eet, l'av d'spir-ran mdo-ri vee-ri, For whom we have waited, since times by gone
D'la diy-yookh poor-qa-na lit, l'a-nee d'go bet as-see-ri." Without you there is no freedom , For those in bondage held
Qateeni:
"B'ah kya-na sha-ree-ra, With this honest soul
B'ah bah-ra d'na-hee-ra, With this shining sun
Bya-vakh-vin qo-la qad-dee-sha, I give you my holy oath
D'mqam A-la-ha d'lei-li, That before the god of nightfall
Ma-shik-noo sa-lee-li, The tent of darkness brings down
Dizh-min bid pa-yish d'la ree-sha. The enemy will lose her head
Zo-da le qav-vim-ma, It will not take long
D'Shid-da sar-pa dim-ma, When Shidda will be soaked in blood
Dim-mee-ta mshee-la m'aal sa-sa-nakh. Wipe away the tears from your face
Hish yoo-man la gin-ya, Our day is not yet done
Hish sa-ra la tin-ya, Before the rising of the moon
Bkhap-qat-loon bnoo-nakh go dra-na-nakh." You shall embrace your two sons
Giliana:
Ma-la-kha d'ttai-boo-ta bgool-pa-nu zar-ba-ni, The angel of Goodness, on her mighty wings
Moom-ttee-li l'ai zmar-ta hal qas-ra d'sa-tta-ni, Delivered his song to the satan's den
W'zoon-gir-ra go lib-ba d'as-see-ri d'la gna-ha, In the heart of the enslaved it kindled hope
W'mood-dir-ri joov-va-bay iz-gad-da d'A-la-ha. The God’s messenger brought back what they spoke
Had-kha zmar-ta d'aa-ni d'nee-ra d'dizh-min ttee-na The Song of the slaves toiling under yoke.
Zoon-gir-ra sip-ya-eet l'nat-ya-tid Qa-ttee-ni. Rang clearly in Qatteeni’s ears:
Shidda Prisoners' song:
"akh nee-ra ya-qoo-ra, lit tya-ma bjoon-ja-ra! Alas the heavy yoke, no end to the torture in sight.
L'an khay-yan go mra-ri, le za-riq kha bah-ra? On our bitter life shouldn't shine some light?
ai-ka li av d'ga-rag aa-tee-va l'pa-roo-qan? Where is the one to free us shall come?
Qatt-ttee-va l'is-soo-ri min ee-dan min sha-qan? To cut the shackles from our legs and arm.
Ya zakh-ma av spee-ra b'dra-na-nookh zar-ba-ni, O brave who was expected, with your arms so strong
Ta toom-li ka-poo-ra man-pil-li shool-tta-ni." Destroy this tyrant put an end to this wrong
Widows last song:
"Shmee-lookh l'a-ha o-li-ta, ya Qa-ttee-ni dvikh ga-na, Did you hear their cries, o noble Qatteeni?
B'gool-pid po-kha moo-yee-ta? Bis-pa-ri na lpoor-qa-na. Delivered on the wings of the wind? They all yearn to be free .
Kool ga-ha d'sham-makh l'an-ni ta-nakh-ya-ti d'moo-ghib-ban, Whenever we hear the lament of our beloveds .
Noo-ra zaa-lim d'gee-han-ni k'ha-vi ma-qoo-du lib-ban. The merciless flames of hell set our heart afire
Il-lookh ee-na biq-ra-ya bkha qav-vakh-ta knoosh-yai-ta, All together they cry out for help
Maam-ttee qa-te poo-sa-ya, la-vid hee-viy-ye mai-ta." Liberate them before their hope expire
Qatteeni Last song before his departure to fight Shidda:
Jvan-qan oop kha-ma-tan, Our sons and daughters
Chlij-te-la m'ee-da-tan, she has snatched from our arms
Kha-yi aal kin-pa d'ttoo-ra qvee-ri, Has buried them alive on the highest peak
Sham-mee-ram khaz-ya-va, If Shamiram this could see
Ma-ree-ra b'yal-ya-va, She would bitterly weep
Qa ya-lo b'mool-ca-no as-see-ri, Her children in their homeland enslaved
Khim-ta b'ga-va d'sad-ree, The fury in their chest
Noo-ra dree-la b'pagh-ree, sets them aflame
Ma-qoo-dee makh kha la-ha kha-ya, burning them in roaring blaze
In l'Shid-da la tai-min, If I don’t destroy the monster
Mat-vin ree-shee nai-min, Then in slumber I shall lay my head
Le vin broon Gil-ga-mish Nin-va-ya. And am not the son of Gilgamesh the Great.
Based on the epic poem Qateeni Gabbara
By William Daniel
Composer: Michel Bosc
Libretto preparation by: Tony Khoshaba
Translation by: William Warda
Transliteration by: Avrahim Giliana
Diction By: Yosip Bet Yosip
Scene 1 – 1
Story Teller (Giliana):
Ptee-khi va soop-ra rvee-kha, A vast table was spread,
Go qass-ra d'Too-ma, In Tooma's castle.
Jim-yi-va aal-ma ra-ba, Where a large crowd had gathered,
Min mdee-ta v'zoo-ma. From the resort and the town.
Khvar-diq-ni tee-vi shtee-qi, The white bearded sat silent
Bttee-ni btakh-man-ta. Filled with thoughts.
Gab-ba-ri ree-shay kee-pi, The braves had their head bent
B'ah-val khish-shan-ta. In distraught.
mood mar-ra cool-la-na-ya, What contagious disease
Biy-ye tpee-qi va. Did they all have?
Mood khish-sha va knoosh-ya-ya, What common sorrow,
D'lgikh-ka khnee-qa va. Chocked off their laugh?
Ah soop-ra msham-ha v'diy-ya, This famous table
Go aat-ra-va-ti. Known in several lands,
Min-ni pal-ttee va va-di, Where countless brave deeds
D'gab-ba-roo-ya-ti. Had begun.
Ta-lim-ta d'kham-ra smoo-qa, The jar of the red wine
B'av-ra va btar-ra. Would enter through the door
Min lee-na l'soop-ra w'lba-ra, From the barrel and beyond
D'la qya-ta l'ar-ra. It would not touch the floor
Sho-ra va mee-da l'ee-da, It would bounce from hand to hand
Mat-to sa-poo-qi, Pouring its contents
Har-hoo-ri gikh-ka khdee-ta, Giggling, laughing, having
Poom-mo man-shoo-qi. Pleasure in being kissed on the lips.
Id-yoom oop ay khash-shan-ta, Today she too was sad,
L'kis Ma-lik tiv-ta, Sitting by Malik
Le va bij-va-ja msho-po, Not moving at all
Makh qa-ttoo siv-ta. Like an elderly cat.
Mood mkhoo-ta va sa-van-ta, What awful tragedy
D'mookh-riv-la l'kai-pay, Had destroyed their fun?
Mood it-ya sa-tta-na-ya, What devilish creature
Moos-mee-li l'gikh-cay? Had silenced their laugh?
Qa-moo-dee le toon shim-yi, Why! Haven’t you heard
Boot khar-vi kha-ti, Of the new destruction
D'moom-ttee-la Shid-da mid-ri, The monster inflicted
L'na-shi v'lkhai-va-ti. On the people and the beasts?
Akh d'in noo-ra d'gee-han-ni, As if the hell fires
L'sad-ro bis-ta-ra, Were tearing up her chest
Chma-ya ley va bich-ma-ya, Could not be extinguished
Bsha-qee-ta v'na-ra. By rivers and creeks.
L'sa-vo la msee-loon mat-ree, Not even the seas
oop la ya-ma-ti. Could quench her thirst.
Dim-mi va ay bib-ba-ya, Blood was what she craved for
Av d'ya-li v'bna-ti. Of young men and maidens.
B'khai-la d'khir-sho la mtakh-mi, By her boundless magic power
Ptil-la goor-vis-la. She grew big and wide.
It-ya la khzee-li rakh-mi, No creature felt her mercy
Cad l'madb-kho blis-la. All on her altar died.
Gab-bä-ri dvee-khi d'ga-na, How many more young braves
Hal ee-man aa-zee, Should leave
Sho-qee lya-lay w'lbakh-ta-tay, Abandoning their wives and kids
Go bikh-ya v'ta-zee. In tears and in grief.
Joon-ja-ra d' khiy-yal d'Too-ma, The agony of Tuma's plight
Kyoo-la lit-va-loon, Had no end
Sha-dir mid-ri gab-ba-ri, If more young men he sent
Qo-ma d'mit-va-loon. They too might die.
Mo-ta har bit aa-tee va, Death will arrive
Ha-da yan had-kha. One way or another.
Qttee-li Too-ma bree-ya-nu. In his mind Tuma decided
L'ma-roo-mu qat-kha, To raise the cup.
Mlee-li ca-sa min kham-ra, He filled the cup with wine,
W'lgab-ba-ri khir-ri, And stared at the mighty
L'ai chyat-ta spir-ta diy-yi, His awaited declamation
Ban khab-ri zmir-ri: He conveyed with this song:
Malik Tooma's invitation:
Ma-nee li av gab-ba-ra, Who is the mightiest man
Av gaw-ra d'gaw-ra d'da-ra, The mightiest of this time?
D'ma-khi m'dish-ta v'bar-riy-ya, Who will cross the plains and deserts
M'al room-ta m'go gal-liy-ya. The valleys and the highlands.
Ă„-vir min al ttoo-ra-ni, Will pass over the mountains
Min doo-ka-ni sa-va-ni. And all the awful places.
M'akh gee-ra mtee-kha sa-tti, Soar like an arrow in flight
L'gan-na-ti d'Shid-da ma-tti. To reach the monster's orchards.
L'mal-ka-ni boosh sham-mee-ni, The most fertile farmlands
L'kar-ma-ni an boosh qee-ni. And the greenest of the fields.
Shid-da ttlee-ta ma-tchikh-la, Find the monster as it sleeps
W'qish-ti al-lo pa-tikh-la. Beat her till death
Shlad-do b'oom-qi da-ree-la, Dump her body in the deeps
Bgee-han-na mai-ca d'tee-la. Into the hell from where she emerged,
Pa-tikh l'ca-va-ti d'miy-ya, Open up the water dams
Makh-khi l'at-ra bar-riy-ya. Give new life to dying lands.
Kha-zin-ni Av gab-ba-ra, Can I see this mighty man
Av gaw-ra d'gaw-ra d'da-ra. The greatest man of our age
D'qazh-dir l'av khoob-ba sha-ti, Who will dare to drink this toast
D'zil-li qo-ma d'la aa-ti." That he may leave but not return?"
Story Teller (Giliana):
Cad hish bra-qa-lid zmoo-ri, The echoes of his song
Le va shil-yi mzan-goo-ri, Had not yet died out
Kin-sha shpikh-li go dar-ta, When a crowd spilled into courtyard
Biz-ma-ra l'aa-ha zmar-ta: Singing this other song.
Scene 1 – 2
Singers (Choir):
"Kha khzee-moon l'aa-too-ra-ya, Behold the Assyrian,
Min ttoo-ra-ni bis-la-ya, Coming down from the highland
Cool kha roov-shi kha dra-ya, He is tall his shoulders wide
ar-ra khoo-ti bitt-ba-ya, The earth sinks beneath his stride
Qa-ttee-ni qatt-tti too-ri. Qateeni the mountain leaper
Sad-ri shoo-sha d'a-vee-ni, His chest is strong as stone
Sha-tee-li kham-ra b'lee-ni, He drinks wine by barrels
It kha b'ga-va d'ash-shee-ni, Is there one among the braves
D'pa-lish am-ma d'Qat-tee-ni? Who will fight with Qateeni?
Qat-tee-ni qatt-tti ttoo-ri. Qateeni the mountain leaper.
In it gaw-ra zar-ba-na, If there is a mighty man
D'aa-siq l'ttoo-ra sa-va-na, Who can ascend the frightful peak
Ma-khi l'zar-ra d'sa-tta-na; Defeat the devilish creature
Aa-ha li av mas-ya-na. This is the only one,
Qat-tee-ni qatt-tti ttoo-ri. Qateeni the mountain leaper."
Story Teller (Giliana):
W'ha Qat-tee-ni bee-va-ra. As Qateeni enters
W'al-ma qav-voo-khi. The crowd gasps
W'qam d'av qo-ma gab-ba-ra, Before his mighty body
Tar-ra gam-boo-khi. The door collapses
Qateeni:
"B'shla-ma ow-rin yan b'pla-sha, Should I enter for fight or for peace,
Ya Kha-lee Too-ma? My uncle Tuma?
Bay-yin d'par-qakh l'doo-ra-sha, I want this quarrel to cease
Har id-yoom yoo-ma." On this very day".
Malik Tooma:
"b'shai-na tee-lookh khwar-zay-yi, Welcome my nephew
Bshai-na v'bash-la-ma. In peace and tranquility
B'ttaw-ta av ba-bee da-yee, Come forward
Ta-lookh la-qa-ma." With blessing my beloved.
Qateeni:
"M'qam d'qab-lit-lee b'dra-na-nookh, Before I am welcomed
Day-ya-na d'am-mi. Oh judge of the people
Bay-yin d'sham-min b'ri-ya-nookh, Declare verdict in the case
Boot kha-tookh ttam-mi." of your sister's disgrace.
Malik Tooma:
"Ta toov shmee-li boo-qa-ra, Come sit, and hear the question
D'joom-man-li id-yoo. That brought us together today
Bkhar-ta b'dar-shakh l'ee-qa-ra, Later the virtues
Dkha-tee Koo-rik-mu." Of my sister Kurikmu we will discuss.
Qateeni:
"He-miz-ma-ni sha-pee-ri, Beautiful words
Le na mal-ya-ni, Are not enough
D'bas-mee l'lib-va-ti tvee-ri, To mend the shattered hearts
W'makh-khee l'mo-ta-ni. Or to resurrect the dead.
Lak-ka d'shim-ma vd'ee-qa-ra, Insults to honor and name
D'nkhip-ta kee may-yi, Which bring forth shame
Akh-chee c'aa-ti liq-qa-ra, Can only be cleansed
Bi-iad ttee-ma d'khay-yi. By the payment of life.
Yan saq-ma-na yan sqee-ma, The accuser or the accused,
Cool d'ma-ri gna-ha, Whoever is at fault
B'ee-dee bit pa-yish tee-ma, Shall be punished by my hand
Ya-min b'Al-la-ha." I swear to God."
Malik Tooma:
"Boot shim-ma dikh-ya d'kha-tee, About the innocence of my sister
L'bah-ra vin plee-tta, I have been enlightened
Khir-ba moop-rim-la qa-tee, After being misled by
Kha niq-va lit-ta." A cursed woman."
Story Teller (Giliana):
It-va bil am-ma tee-vi, Sitting among the nobles
Kha Niq-va nookh-rai-ta, Was a stranger
Da-yim min lib-bo khree-va, From her wicked heart
Bish-ta biss-la-ya. Ceaselessly dripping evil
Stranger:
"Pin-da-na vit makh ta-la," “You are tricky as a fox.
D'bshitt-ri bay-yit liq-tta-la, With flattery you want to kill
Lboo-cha ya-too-ma. The bastard orphan.
Yan k'ho-yad lib-bookh rgid-li, Or may be your heart trembled
Mpitt-kha d'pit-yoo-nu, Because of his broad shoulders
D'bee-lookh biad khab-rid shid-li, Therefore with false words of praise
Shai-pit lkhizh-boo-nu. His claims you hope to erase.
Yoor-khad qo-ma vd'sha-qa-ni, Length of body and limbs
Ap in nee-shan-qa, Though symbols of youth
Bno-shei le na mal-ya-ni, Are not solely enough
D'ba-ni kha jvan-qa." To make a man.”
Malik Tooma:
"Tchoom l'av pům-makh shikh-ta-na, "Shut your filthy mouth
Khriv-ta d'bar-riy-ya, The depraved of the desert
Da-ya la dee-lee aa-na, I never found out
Mai-ca vat tee-ta." Where you came from.”
Stranger:
Aa-na har ai nish-sha van, ''I am the very woman
D'yoo-vil-to van rä-ei, Who gave you my advice
W'lai d'am-mookh big-ra-sha van, For putting up with you
Doo vit bip-ra-yee." You are paying me thus."
Malik Tooma:
"Ra-yakh akh-lee min ree-shakh, To hell with you
Tlooq min qam pa-tee, And your advice
Yan moor moo-dee-va nee-shakh, Tell me of your aim
Go qis-sat d'kha-tee. In my sister's case.
In priq-lan m'ah Ga-han-na, If we ever survive the hell
D'bree-shan bis-la-ya, Looming over our head,
Dee-va-nakh bid ow-din-na, be warned stranger,
Dee ya nookh-rei-ta." I will decide your fate
Qateeni:
"Dee-va-nookh Tooma Kha-lee, Don't let your judgment err
Khil-tti la hass-la, My uncle Tuma.
Min ba-ba l'broo-na k'sa-lee, From father to the son
Cool zid-qi d'as-la. All rights are inherited.
Khsheekh-ta la ai lpoor-aa-na, She deserves to earn her pay
D'pil-kha-na vee-da, For what she has done
W'bid qab-la la ah da-na. And shall receive it right away
W'har b'aa-ha ee-da. By this very hand."
Story Teller (Giliana):
W'lti-vil-ta d'sho-ta-poo-ta, The leach of the society,
L'par-san-ta d'mar-ra." And the spreader of disease,
Qa-ttee-ni har bkha mkhoo-ta, Qateeni with one blow
Bli-sa-li l'ar-ra. Smashed her on the floor.
Ttbee-la oop ah qa-vam-ta, All this event sank
Go ya-ma d'da-na. In the ocean of time
Akh-chee pish-la hoom-zim-ta, But it is only remembered
B'lott-ta lsa-tta-na." When the devil is cursed.
Story Teller (Giliana):
Ca-sa aa-tee-qa d'da-va, The old cup of gold
Ma-lik kha-sha-na, The sad Malik,
Mlee-li min kham-ra sa-va, Filled with old wine
Khil-ya makh sha-na. Sweet and fine.
Ca-sa go ee-di qim-li, Cup in hand he stood
W'lgab-ba-ri khir-ri, Staring at the nobles.
Qa-li bqas-ra goor-gim-li, His voice thundered in the castle
B'ay zmar-ta d'zmir-ri: As he shared this song:
Scene 1 – 3
Malik Tuma’s Song:
"Ma-nee li av gab-ba-ra, Who is the mightiest man
D'la lip-li d'da-yir l'ba-ra. The man who will never retreat
Qad-kha d'shtee-lee sha-tee-li. Who will drink a cup with me
Har b'kha bee-na mas-pee-li. Here now for all to see
Shva-ra d'shvir-ree sha-vir-ri, Who will take the stride that I took
Poog-da-nee la ta-vir-ri. Whatever I command he will do
Ma-khi min at-ra siy-ya, He will travel from dry land
D'la miy-ya d'la mar-riy-ya. Dry of water and pastures
Aa-zil l'ttoo-ra sa-va-na, Cross the frightful mountain
Ree-shi qree-ma go 'na-na. His head wrapped in gloom
Shid-da ttlee-taa ma-chikh-la, Find the monster as she sleeps
Qish-ti al-lo ma-tikh-la. with his arrows bring about her death
cham-chim-la l'oom-qi shlad-do, Dump her body in the deeps
Ta-likh loon bar-ro w'sad-do. Wreck its dams and levies
Shap-khee go at-ra miy-ya, Let once more the water flow
Khay-yi mid-ri bar-riy-ya. Revive again the desert below
Ga-bi min car-mo may-yi, Pick from its garden and bring
Kha khpa-qa gil-la d'khay-yi. An armful of the plant of life
Av d'pa-tikh l'ay-na smee-ta, That restores a blindman’s sight
B'rei-khi ra-ish oop mee-ta. It’s smell revives those who died.
Ma-nee l'av khoob-ba bsha-ti, Who will drink to the love
Zil-li qav-ma d'la aa-ti. That he may leave but not return to?
Ma-nee-li av gab-ba-ra, Who is the brave man
Av gav-ra d'gav-ri d'da-ra?" The bravest one of this time?
Story Teller:
Ai-ga Qa-ttee-ni gav-ra, Then Qateeni the great
Qav-moo makh-khoo-yi sav-ra. Whose presence inspired hope
Hoom-zim-li, b'ee-di ca-sa, Held up his cup and spoke
Shish-li bei-ta mshoo-ta-sa. And shook foundation of the house
Amir: and said
Qateeni's Song:
"Ma-lik ha aa-na,
am-mookh lish-ta-yoo ma-na, I will drink the cup with you
Bsho-rin-ni shva-ra d'shvir-rookh, Will take the stride you took
Btam-mim-min min-dee d'mir-rookh. Will accomplish what you say.
La dish-ya-ti d'la miy-ya, Neither the lands without water
La av noo-ra d'bar-riy-ya. Nor the fires of the desert
La ttoo-ra-ni sa-va-ni, Not the frightful mountains
La ee-too-ta d'sa-tta-ni, Not the existence of devils
W'la as-qoo-ta go shvee-la, Or the burden of the task
Roo-khee le mak-chikh-khee-la. Will ever tire my soul.
B'as-qin b'ttoo-ra d'makh-va-ti, I will ascend the mount of affliction
Oop in khree-za b'skin-ya-ti. Even if studded with blades
M'qam sai-pee broo-na d'bir-qa, From my sword, the breed of lightning,
Shid-da le mas-ya ar-qa. The monster cannot escape.
Bit rap-pin b'oom-qi shlad-do, I will dump her corpse in well
Bit tal-khin bar-ro w'sad-do. Will wreck her dams and spells
Mlee-moon-li ca-see spee-qa, Fill up my empty cup
M'av kham-ra boosh aa-tee-qa. With the oldest wine
Sha-tin l'av khoob-ba goo-ra, Which I'll drink to the greatest love
D'qa-mi ra-gid oop ttoo-ra. That shakes even the mountains.
Ee-na kha-lee moor ma-lookh? But my uncle tell me what is wrong
Qa-moo ay-nookh lkee-za-lookh? Why did you wink your eye?
Ttoov-va d'min qam d'aa-zin-va, I wish I knew the secrets of your heart
L'ttish-va d'lib-bookh kha-zin-va. Before I depart.
Scene 1-4
Qateeni:
Gaw-ri cash-shee-ri w'zree-zi, The ever-ready heroic braves
L'kha-doo-ri d'soop-ra khree-zi, Sitting around this table
Ca-so-khoon vei-na bree-zi, Your cups are pretty dry
Ca-so-khoon dsee-ma v'da-va. Your cups of silver and gold.
Qa-mu qa-lo-khoon shtee-qa? Why are your voices hushed?
Qa-mu ran-go-khoon ree-qa? Why do you all look pale?
Qa-mu ca-so-khoon spee-qa? Why do you all look pale?
Hish le-li tee-man khra-va. We’ve not yet been crushed.
Sha-takh l'av khoob-ba goo-ra, Let's drink to the greatest love
Khai-la-na mcool is-soo-ra, Stronger than all bonds
D'nttee-ran-li l'aa-ha do-ra, Which has saved us to this day
Av khoob-ba d'ba-ba sa-va." The love of our ancestors.
Qateeni Continues:
"M'qam d'aa-zin lit-pa-qa b'ai Shid-da te-man-ta, Before I depart to confront the terminator shidda
Kha-loo-vee shmee sa-pin biy-yookh khda he-man-ta. My uncle listen to you I entrust a request
Ha yim-mee ar-mil-ta go be-ta nookh-ra-ya, My widowed mother in another land
Bikh-kha-ya khoot shim-ma av d'yim-ma d'kha ra-ya, Lives as the mother of a herder
Go khish-sha w'ool-sa-na va-re-nä yoo-ma-no, and in sorrow are passing her days
Min il-ta d'kha boo-sa d'khak-ma min san-ya-no. Because of a malicious scheme of her foes
Ttla gav-ri zar-ba-ni bit shad-rit may-yee-la, You will send three mighty braves to bring her back
Min gil-li rei-kha-ni gad-lit-la kha klee-la. Fashion her a crown from scented flowers
Boot shim-mo av dikh-ya w'dee-qa-ro d'la moo-ma, About her pure name and he spotless honor
Pshee-qa-eet qa al-ma bit ga-lit O Too-ma! You will tell all o, tuma
Qa shav-va yoo-ma-ni b'ya-vookh vin va-da, You have seven days to do this
W'in b'mit-kha d'ah zow-na la too-mim-lookh l'wa-da, But if you fail to do it in seven days
Ai-ga kha-lee kha-lee khash-vin ga-nookh mee-ta, Then my uncle consider yourself dead
Mqam khim-tee le khal-sit b'ga-va d'aa-ha bree-ta." You will have no place to hide in this world.
Giliana:
Ma-tta-la d'Qa-ttee-ni priz-la va kha qitt-aa, Qatteeni's shield made from one metal sheet
B'maj-goon-ya-ti d'nkha-sha maz-ri-cha-na lqee-tta. Was studded with many colorful beads
Kham-sha jvan-qi zakh-mi boosh zakh-mi d'go at-ra, Five strong men, the grandest of all
La msee-loon l'maj-voo-jo min ar-ra oop nit-ra. Could not lift it a bit from the ground
Dviq-li bi sim-ma-li w'al riv-shi tun-tir-ri, He threw it on his shoulder by left hand
Khaz-ya-ni b'oo-ja-ba cool kha b'shva-voo khir-ri. On-lookers were truly amazed then
Singers (Choir):
Had-kha khai-la d'dra-na La khzee-lan hal id-yoom Till now this kind of strength we haven't had,
Khee l'aa-lam Qa-ttee-ni gaw-ra vit min shra-ra, Live for ever Qateeni you are mighty
L'aa-nee d'go khish-ca-na at maz-riq-qit ba-ra. Shed light on those in darkness trapped
Ha le la boot diy-yookh d'rshim-te-la b'ctiv-ya-tan, Isn't you about whom our books have foretold?
D'bid aa-ti bid pa-si l'yal-loo-dan l'yal-ta-tan? That shall come to free the young and the old?
Giliana: (explaining the Widow and Qateeni encounter)
M'gee-ba-ni khoor-dee-loon Qa-ttee-ni Gab-ba-ra, From all sides people gathered around Qatteeni the brave
Cad l'sai-pu l'ma-tta-lu wl'jvan-qoo-tu bikh-qa-ra. Praised his shield, his youth, and his sword
Ha khak-ma kha-poo-ttu la qa-ma aal nee-shi, Some encouraged him to go forth
Cad khee-ni bee-ma-ru d'la a-zil kha b'no-shi. Others warned him not to go alone
Khda bakh-ta ta-ma va d'ar-mil-ta v'yim-ma va, There was a woman , a widow and mother
Boot tla-qa d'tray bnoo-no lib-bo doom-dim-mi va. Her hearth aching for her two sons
Moo-khab-no tee-la boot da gav-ra sha-ree-ra, She felt pity for the faithful young man
Joo-rib-la l'mak-loo-yu b'kha qa-la ma-ree-ra. And tried to stop him with a sad voice
Cad brik-ta qam aq-lu w'go pa-tu bikh-ya-ra, As she knelt in front of him and looked at his face
Bno-nei-ta v'par-pal-ta had-kha va bee-ma-ra: She begged him and implored and she spoke:
Widow: (trying to stop Qateeni from going)
"Door min oor-khookh Qa-ttee-ni, goo-ra-li khai-la d'dizh-min, Go back Qatteeni Great is the enemy’s might
Khoosh o-ree shin-ni khee-ni, bzar-ba boosh goo-ra chak-bin. Let some years go by Prepare for a hard fight
al pa-tookh ay d'kha ya-la, hish lit mab-yoo-ni shkhoom-ta, On your face of a boy There is not yet sign of beard
Khoos-ra-na le-ti l'kya-la, d'tal-qa bnoov-vo ah qoom-ta. It would be a great loss If this young stature disappear
Lit khizh-boo-na id-yoo-ma, kma gab-ba-ri kma zakh-mi, Up to now we have lost count Of many mighty and brave
Me-loon aal madb-kha koo-ma, madb-kha d'Shid-da d'la rakh-mi." that the black altar of Sheeda Became their grave
Qateeni:
"Hitch la zad-yat yim-mee, Don’t fear my mother
At la gash-qat l'shin-nee, Don’t judge me by my youth
k'ho-ya d'la-vin msham-ha gab-ba-ra, I may not be a famous hero
Ee-na la qoov-vim-la, But has not yet happened
D'ga-va d'had-kha mam-la, in such situation
Qa-ttee-ni m'oor-khoo da-yir l'ba-ra. that Qatteeni ever From his goal retreats
Shmee l'aa-ha mo-mee-ta, Listen to this oath
B'dkha-ra d'ba-bee mee-ta, By the memories of my deceased father
Mttee-li yoom kha-ra-ya d'brat shee-da. This is the last day of the monster's daughter
Hish yoo-man la gin-ya, Before the day’s end
Hish sa-ra la tin-ya, Before the moon returns
Mai-ta bid mai-ta ay b'ah ee-da." By these hands she shall die
Widow:
Ttoov-van-ta la ay yim-ma, w'khash-kha pai-sha moo-rim-ta, Blessed is your mother, deserves to be praised
D'had-kha zar-ri maq-qim-ma, d'ha-vee poor-qa-na l'oom-ta.
That such a son she has raised, Who will bring salvation to a nation
Lib-va-tan bttee-ni b'sloo-ta, am-mookh da-yim bit ha-vee, Our hearts full of prayers, Will always be with you
Bitt-la-ba b'nas-see-khoo-ta, d'cool-lay oor-kha-tookh sha-vee. We ask that your road be smooth, You indeed are the one
At ee-vit sha-ree-ra-eet, l'av d'spir-ran mdo-ri vee-ri, For whom we have waited, since times by gone
D'la diy-yookh poor-qa-na lit, l'a-nee d'go bet as-see-ri." Without you there is no freedom , For those in bondage held
Qateeni:
"B'ah kya-na sha-ree-ra, With this honest soul
B'ah bah-ra d'na-hee-ra, With this shining sun
Bya-vakh-vin qo-la qad-dee-sha, I give you my holy oath
D'mqam A-la-ha d'lei-li, That before the god of nightfall
Ma-shik-noo sa-lee-li, The tent of darkness brings down
Dizh-min bid pa-yish d'la ree-sha. The enemy will lose her head
Zo-da le qav-vim-ma, It will not take long
D'Shid-da sar-pa dim-ma, When Shidda will be soaked in blood
Dim-mee-ta mshee-la m'aal sa-sa-nakh. Wipe away the tears from your face
Hish yoo-man la gin-ya, Our day is not yet done
Hish sa-ra la tin-ya, Before the rising of the moon
Bkhap-qat-loon bnoo-nakh go dra-na-nakh." You shall embrace your two sons
Giliana:
Ma-la-kha d'ttai-boo-ta bgool-pa-nu zar-ba-ni, The angel of Goodness, on her mighty wings
Moom-ttee-li l'ai zmar-ta hal qas-ra d'sa-tta-ni, Delivered his song to the satan's den
W'zoon-gir-ra go lib-ba d'as-see-ri d'la gna-ha, In the heart of the enslaved it kindled hope
W'mood-dir-ri joov-va-bay iz-gad-da d'A-la-ha. The God’s messenger brought back what they spoke
Had-kha zmar-ta d'aa-ni d'nee-ra d'dizh-min ttee-na The Song of the slaves toiling under yoke.
Zoon-gir-ra sip-ya-eet l'nat-ya-tid Qa-ttee-ni. Rang clearly in Qatteeni’s ears:
Shidda Prisoners' song:
"akh nee-ra ya-qoo-ra, lit tya-ma bjoon-ja-ra! Alas the heavy yoke, no end to the torture in sight.
L'an khay-yan go mra-ri, le za-riq kha bah-ra? On our bitter life shouldn't shine some light?
ai-ka li av d'ga-rag aa-tee-va l'pa-roo-qan? Where is the one to free us shall come?
Qatt-ttee-va l'is-soo-ri min ee-dan min sha-qan? To cut the shackles from our legs and arm.
Ya zakh-ma av spee-ra b'dra-na-nookh zar-ba-ni, O brave who was expected, with your arms so strong
Ta toom-li ka-poo-ra man-pil-li shool-tta-ni." Destroy this tyrant put an end to this wrong
Widows last song:
"Shmee-lookh l'a-ha o-li-ta, ya Qa-ttee-ni dvikh ga-na, Did you hear their cries, o noble Qatteeni?
B'gool-pid po-kha moo-yee-ta? Bis-pa-ri na lpoor-qa-na. Delivered on the wings of the wind? They all yearn to be free .
Kool ga-ha d'sham-makh l'an-ni ta-nakh-ya-ti d'moo-ghib-ban, Whenever we hear the lament of our beloveds .
Noo-ra zaa-lim d'gee-han-ni k'ha-vi ma-qoo-du lib-ban. The merciless flames of hell set our heart afire
Il-lookh ee-na biq-ra-ya bkha qav-vakh-ta knoosh-yai-ta, All together they cry out for help
Maam-ttee qa-te poo-sa-ya, la-vid hee-viy-ye mai-ta." Liberate them before their hope expire
Qatteeni Last song before his departure to fight Shidda:
Jvan-qan oop kha-ma-tan, Our sons and daughters
Chlij-te-la m'ee-da-tan, she has snatched from our arms
Kha-yi aal kin-pa d'ttoo-ra qvee-ri, Has buried them alive on the highest peak
Sham-mee-ram khaz-ya-va, If Shamiram this could see
Ma-ree-ra b'yal-ya-va, She would bitterly weep
Qa ya-lo b'mool-ca-no as-see-ri, Her children in their homeland enslaved
Khim-ta b'ga-va d'sad-ree, The fury in their chest
Noo-ra dree-la b'pagh-ree, sets them aflame
Ma-qoo-dee makh kha la-ha kha-ya, burning them in roaring blaze
In l'Shid-da la tai-min, If I don’t destroy the monster
Mat-vin ree-shee nai-min, Then in slumber I shall lay my head
Le vin broon Gil-ga-mish Nin-va-ya. And am not the son of Gilgamesh the Great.
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