I was turned on to Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" in 1995 while reading Reginald Lewis' autobiography "Why Should White Guys Have all the Fun." Of course I'd heard parts of the work throughout my life in movies, commercials, and even cartoons, but it was after reading how Lewis would sit in his private jet and listen to the piece that I was compelled to purchase it for myself. I bought three versions that week and numerous versions since. Lewis was my idol, a blue collar guy from a rough Baltimore neighborhood, who went to Harvard and became a star on Wall Street.
His drive to achieve unlimited personal goals and attain wealth made the American Dream more accessible to me. Four Seasons is the perfect soundtrack to such a dream - it's real live harking back to a time when climate change wasn't an excuse to confiscate money but to celebrate life and challenges that come with life. Here is the sheet music and sonnets:
has come and joyfully the birds greet it with happy song, and the brooks, while the streams flow along with gentle murmur as the zephyrs blow.
There come, shrouding the air with a black cloak, lighting and thunder chosen to herald [the storm]; then, when these are silent, the little birds return to their melodious incantations.
And now, in the pleasant, flowery meadow, to the soft murmur of leaves and plants, the goatherd sleeps with his faithful dog at his side.
To the festive sound of a pastoral bagpipe, nymphs and shepherds dance under their beloved roof, greeting the glittering arrival of the spring.Summer
In the harsh season scorched by the sun, man and flock languish, and the pine is on fire; the cuckoo begins to call and soon after, the turtledove and the goldfinch are heard singing. Zephyr [the west wind] gently blows, but Boreas [the north wind] suddenly enters into a contest with its neighbor, and the little shepherd weeps for he hears the awesome threatening storm and his fate.
To his tired limbs rest is denied by the fear of lightning, awesome thunder, and the furious swarm of flies and hornets!
Alas, his fears are justified. The sky is filled with thunder and lightning and hail cuts down the proud grain.Autumn
The peasant celebrates the pleasure of the happy harvest with dances and songs; and inflamed by the liquor of Bacchus, many end their rejoicing with sleep.
The mild pleasant air makes all abandon dance and song; this is the season that invites all to the sweet delights of peaceful sleep.
The hunters, at the break of dawn, set forth with horns, guns, and hounds. The animal flees, and