First MovementThin-voiced, nasal pipesDrawing sound out and outUntil it is a screeching1 thread,Sharp and cutting, sharp and cutting,It hurts.Whee-e-e!Bump! Bump! Tong-ti-bump!There are drums here,Banging,And wooden shoes beating the round, grey stonesOf the market-place.Whee-e-e!Sabots slapping the worn, old stones,And a shaking and cracking of dancing bones;Clumsy and hard they are,And uneven,Losing half a beatBecause the stones are slippery.Bump-e-ty-tong! Whee-e-e! Tong!The thin Spring leavesShake to the banging of shoes.Shoes beat, slap,Shuffle2, rap,And the nasal pipes squeal3 with their pigs' voices,Little pigs' voicesWeaving among the dancers,A fine white threadLinking up the dancers.Bang! Bump! Tong!Petticoats,Stockings,Sabots,Delirium flapping its thigh-bones;Red, blue, yellow,Drunkenness steaming in colours;Red, yellow, blue,Colours and flesh weaving together,In and out, with the dance,Coarse stuffs and hot flesh weaving together.Pigs' cries white and tenuous,White and painful,White and --Bump!Tong!Second MovementPale violin music whiffs across the moon,A pale smoke of violin music blows over the moon,Cherry petals4 fall and flutter,And the white Pierrot,Wreathed in the smoke of the violins,Splashed with cherry petals falling, falling,Claws a grave for himself in the fresh earthWith his finger-nails.Third MovementAn organ growls5 in the heavy roof-groins of a church,It wheezes6 and coughs.The nave7 is blue with incense,Writhing, twisting,Snaking over the heads of the chanting priests.`Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domin
