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Trade Winds
John Masefield (1878-1967)

IN the harbor, in the island, in the Spanish Seas,
Are the tiny white houses and the orange trees,
And day-long, night-long, the cool and pleasant breeze
Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.

There is the red wine, the nutty Spanish ale,
The shuffle of the dancers, the old salt’s tale,
The squeaking fiddle, and the soughing in the sail
Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.

And o’ nights there’s fire-flies and the yellow moon,
And in the ghostly palm-trees the sleepy tune
Of the quiet voice calling me, the long low croon
Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.

Fortuitousness
Zhimo Xu (1897-1931)

Being a cloud in the sky
On your heart lake I cast my figure.
You don’t have to wonder.
Nor should you cheer—
In an instant I will disappear.

On the dark sea we encounter
In different directions of our own we steer.
It’s nice for you to remember.
But you’d better forget the luster
That we’ve been devoted to each other. 

Strange how we can walk (in L.A.)
Seth Michelson (1978-)

into new light each morning, same
city, same sidewalk, but somehow
this daybreak: downtown L.A., late May,
and you’re walking alone,
a white flame, the birds singing
as they mull yesterday’s news:
aortic stenosis; Your heart, Sir, it’s
leaking.

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Isolated syllables (no specific meanings) in the score: Lo, Sai, Woo, Ya, etc., and Solfège names