TO THIS WE'VE COME (from THE CONSUL)
Music and lyrics by Gian Carlo Menotti
Copyright © 1950 (Renewed) by G. Schirmer, Inc.
International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved.
Reprinted by Permission.
To this we've come:
That men withhold the world from men.
No ship nor shore for him who drowns at sea.
No home nor grave for him who dies on land.
To this we've come:
That man be born a stranger upon God's earth,
That he be chosen without a chance for choice,
That he be hunted without the hope of refuge.
To this we've come, to this we've come.
And you, you, too, shall weep.
If to men, not to God, we now must pray,
Tell me, secretary, tell me, who are these men?
If to them, not to God, we now must pray,
Tell me, Secretary, tell me.
Who are these dark archangels?
Will they be conquered?
Will they be doomed?
Is there one, anyone behind those doors
To whom the heart can still be explained?
Is there one, anyone, who still may care?
Tell me, secretary, tell me.
Have you ever seen the Consul?
Does he speak, does he breathe?
Have you spoken to him?
Papers! Papers! Papers!
But don't you understand?
What shall I tell you to make you understand?
My child is dead.
John's mother is dying...
My own life is in danger.
I ask you for help,
And all you give me is...papers!
What is your name? Magda Sorel.
Age? Thirty-three.
Color of eyes?
Color of hair?
Single or married?
Religion and race?
Place of birth, Father's name, Mother's name?
Papers! Papers! Papers!
Papers, papers, papers, papers, papers, papers!
Look at my eyes,
They are afraid to sleep.
Look at my hands,
At these old woman's hands.
Why don't you say something?
Aren't you secretaries human beings like us?
What is your name? Magda Sorel.
Age? Thirty-three.
What will your papers do?
They cannot stop the clock.
They are too thin an armor against a bullet!
What is your name? Magda Sorel.
Age? Thirty-three.
What does that matter?
All that matters is that the time is late,
That I'm afraid and I need your help.
What is your name? What is your name? What is your name?
This is my answer:
My name
Is woman.
Age:
Still young.
Color of hair:
Gray.
Color of eyes:
The color of tears.
Occupation:
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting,
Waiting,
Waiting, waiting.
Oh, the day will come I know,
When our hearts aflame will burn your paper chains!
Warn the Consul, Secretary, warn him!
That day neither ink nor seal shall cage our souls.
That day will come, that day will come!
