Rough Sea Birds, composed for soprano, bass flute, and harp, is inspired by my mother’s poetic reflection on her youth. When my mother was a young girl, a hometown boy fell in love with her with an affection as pure as “a cool stream.” However, my mother was a budding and ambitious writer who was chasing dreams of the city’s bright lights and her glorious literary idols, so the boy’s innocent love was not what she could reciprocate. That young man later joined the army and tragically lost his life during the Cambodian-Vietnamese War, in which Vietnam intervened to end the reign of terror and genocide of Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge (Communist Party of Kampuchea).
After her dreams were shattered in the city, my mother returned to her coastal hometown and worked at a plant protection station for several years. During a rough sea season, the sight of birds flying inland from the stormy sea poignantly brought forth memories. Therefore, she composed this poem as a reflection of love, loss, war, and peace in her past. Her poem resonated profoundly with some of my own personal experiences, so I composed this work.
Below is the English translation of the poem.
Rough sea birds
Flutter back through the still sky.
The birds return to land as spring begins to bloom.
Winter fades with heart-piercing cold.
I put fresh flowers in an old vase.
The morning sun floods my place.
The instrument’s been tuned, and I’ve been waiting.
Spring has come, but you won’t return.
Spring returns; I grow one year older
I look back, and everything has changed
Dreams turn into illusions
I let my soul drift in the clouds.
I watch the eagle soar over the mountain peak,
Treading past the cool stream that flows around us
One day, he was shot by an arrow and plunged into the abyss.
The stream calls to its source, and only then do I recognize that was you.
In a tranquil morning, I wrote poems about those who have gone forever
The silent ones who let spring waken
Flowers smile as maidens knit
Oh, everything seems so peaceful
On the roof, sparrows chatter
I write this poem for you, though you will never read it.
The posterity will understand the price of life!
Premiered at Polymorphia FSU New Music Ensemble Concert, November 22, 2024.
Marcy Stonikas (soprano), Noël Wan (harp), and Claire Park (bass flute)