Sentencia del Tribunal Supremo 644/200

At the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept, while remembering Zion. On the willows of that land we hung our harps, and when they who made us captive asked us there, about the words of a little song, saying: ‘Sing to us some songs of Zion’, we answered: ‘How could we sing songs of the Lord in a land of foreigners? If I forget you, oh, Jerusalem, oh, oh, may my right hand also forget its art!’

Psalm 137 is an expression of the extreme anguish and anger experienced by members of the exiled Israelite community following the sacking of Jerusalem in 587 B.C.E.Following the destruction of their city, members of the community were uprooted from their homeland and relocated to Babylon, a land which was completely different to that which they had known.26 However, this exile was not only geographic; the Israelites were also removed from the temple, which was their spiritual home. It seems likely that Dvořák related to this psalm because it expressed some of his own troubles during his stay in America. As the Israelites desperately longed for Jerusalem, Dvořák was extremely homesick for Bohemia, the country of his birth. Unlike the Israelite community, however, Dvořák moved to America as the result of his own choice, not by force. Nor had he had experienced the destruction of his homeland. However, with the terminal illness and subsequent death of his father, Dvořák could have related to the expression of tearful remembrance and longing found in Psalm 137, and perhaps felt that in a sense, part of his homeland had now been lost.27

26 _{McCann, ‘The Book of Psalms’, p.1227.}

27 _{Psalm 137 also contains the idea of singing in a foreign land. Dvořák himself was, in a sense,} having to sing in a foreign land. However, it does not appear that he had particular problems composing in America.

The song opens mournfully in C minor, appropriate to the weeping described in verse 1 (Example 3.14). The texture and rhythms of the accompaniment seem to represent an instrument other than the piano – perhaps the harps mentioned in bar 18. (Indeed, at the moment when the text states ‘On the willows of that land we hung our harps’ (bb. 15-19), this particular texture ceases, suggesting that in the opening section Dvořák intended to give the impression of harp playing.)

Example 3.14 – Song seven, bb.1-4

When the protagonist speaks of ‘remembering Zion’ (bb. 10-12), however, the key changes to the relative major (Eb), suggesting the joy that accompanies the remembrance of the Israelite’s homeland and, perhaps, Dvořák’s Bohemia. The notion of remembrance is a central theme in this psalm.28 As evidenced in this first verse, although the remembrance of Zion by the community is painful, it is essential if they are to retain their identity as a people, and furthermore, their hope.29 Dvořák may have had a similar feeling about the necessity of staying true to his own cultural identity while in a foreign land. He certainly jumped at the chance to be amongst Czech language and culture whilst in America, as is evident in a letter written to his friend Dr. Emil Kozanek, dated April 1893. In it, he writes of his upcoming summer in Spillville, where, he enthuses, ‘the teacher

28 _{McCann, ‘The Book of Psalms’, p.1227.} 29 _Brueggemann,

and the parish priest and everything is Czech and so I shall be among my own folks and I am looking forward to it very much.’30

After the shift in texture which accompanies the hanging up of harps in bars 15- 19, the tension builds as the protagonist speaks of being taunted by the captors. The accompaniment becomes increasingly agitated – the repeated chords are punctuated by an irregularly occurring descending sixth in the right hand of the accompaniment, first heard as Eb-G in bar 20, then changing to D-F in bars 21- 22. This effect is combined with an accelerando, followed by a crescendo. The

situation of the exiles is made even worse when the captors ask them to ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’ McCann observes that the implication of this question was in fact to ask, ‘Where is your God?’31 The condescension and confidence of the captors as they say these words is emphasised with straight-forward, diatonic harmonies and a dynamic of forte, which contrasts to the predominantly piano

voice of the captives. Furthermore, this section, albeit brief, is the most lyrical section of the song.

In the overall design of Psalm 137, the effect of verses 4-6 (the first two of which are used in Dvořák’s song) is to say that although Jerusalem has been destroyed, the same thing cannot be done be done to memories – under no circumstances may Jerusalem be forgotten.32 This sentiment forms the climax of Dvořák’s song, with the phrase ‘If I forget you, oh, Jerusalem, oh, oh, may my

30 _{Dvořák in a letter to Dr. Emil Kozanek, dated 12 April 1893, in Tibbetts, ed.,}

Dvořák in America: 1892–1895,p.394.

31 _{McCann, ‘The Book of Psalms’, p.1227.} 32 _Brueggemann,

right hand also forget its art!’ (verse 5). The word ‘Jeruzaleme’ is given the greatest emphasis here – Dvořák uses a half-diminished seventh chord of F, Ab, Cb, Eb, played forte,against an accented Bb in the voice to emphasise this word

(b.49). The result is an intense clash which characterises the extreme anguish of the protagonist. This harmonic climax is followed by the melodic and dynamic high points in bar 50 on the outcry ‘Ó!’ Here, the singer is left hanging as the accompaniment drops out, a device which adds to the distress of the moment. When the singer re-enters for the final phrase, however, the line is more staid and controlled, and the song concludes peacefully in Eb major. As in bars 11-12, it is the remembrance of home which prompts this move to Eb.

Looking at song seven overall, one notices that it has a very awkward sense of flow, due to its multitude of pauses, speed changes and key changes. In bar 24, for example, although the song has been building in intensity in the preceding bars, it comes to a complete halt on the word ‘zajali’ [captured]. When the music begins again in bar 25, it has completely lost this momentum. This is awkward because the sense of the words carries across this gap, and there appears to be no immediate textual justification for such a disjunction. Changes of key, texture, tempo and dynamic accompany the mocking words of the captors in bars 29-34, but again, the music is just settling down when another change occurs for the short two-bar phrase of bars 35-36. At this point these changes could be explained because of the different characters in the narrative, but further incidences of this stop-start motion occur at bars 37, 44 and 51 – the music does not settle on any single idea for long.

This disconnection of various phrases does, in fact, have a wider textual justification. The first fourteen bars actually flow very well, until the moment where the harps are hung up on the willows. From this point on, the music is characterised by the disjunctions I have described. However, the fact that the protagonist cannot settle on any one theme fits very well with the statement ‘How could we sing the songs of the Lord in a land of foreigners?’ It is as if Dvořák is resisting a conventional song format here to illustrate these words; the exiles cannot sing a song in the midst of their current situation, and this is emphasised all the more by the fact that the captors’ music is the most lyrical.

I have not yet mentioned the remaining three verses of the Psalm 137, which were omitted by Dvořák. In these the psalmist expresses his or her fierce anger, calling for vengeance on the Babylonians. Verse 9 containes one of the most chilling statements in the Psalms, ‘Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones.’ Dvořák himself had no such cause for violent vengeance. Rather, his song focuses only on the anguish of the homesick, a