BABETTE

A voice within me calls out to you
From my untamed heart
Come now, don’t fight the voice of joy
Love and desire mixed with doubt
Besiege my weary heart
Come now with me, my pride and joy
But she, though she loved him
Could not leave her father
With the good pastor’s flock she must stay

I’m going away forever
Never will we meet again
For now I have learned that life is hard
Never to be, your love for me
Since it’s impossible
No one again will share my heart
But thirty years later an invite to dinner
To her father’s church he will go

There’s a letter for you, Babette
My God, you’ve won the lottery!
Ten thousand francs. What will you do?
I’d like to prepare a dinner for the minister’s birthday
I’d like to prepare a French dinner
The flock takes a vow
No pleasure allowed
Their tongues will enjoy only prayer

Quails and turtle soup
The finest wine, the highest taste
The guest from Paris is much impressed
The flock tries their best to resist pleasures never felt before
As ill-fated lovers meet again
As eyes light, tongues sparkle
And dinner is transformed
Into a kind of love affair

Mercy and truth have met together
Righteousness and bliss
Shall kiss one another here and now
Man, in his weakness and shortsightedness believes in choice
But trembles with fear at every risk
But choice is no matter
Our eyes will be opened
Infinite mercy is ours

We need only wait with confidence, receive with gratitude
Everything chosen comes to us
And all we reject
That too is granted and returned to us
For mercy and truth shall live with us
The day hurries off
The sun bathes in the sea
The time to depart will come soon

Every day of my life I’ve been with you, dear
Tell me you know that
Yes, I know that, and you do, too
Each evening I dine with you in spirt and within my soul
Nothing has changed and nothing will
This evening I’ve learned
In this beautiful world
All things are possible still

Babette’s going back to Paris
No, she can’t, her money’s spent
Her ten thousand francs went out in style
That’s what it costs for twelve to dine at the Café Anglais
Where Babett once made the people smile
But, Babette, why would you do all that for us?
Now you’ll be poor all your life

The artist is never poor
Throughout the world sounds one long cry:
Give me the chance to do my best
In paradise you’ll be the artist God meant you to be
You will delight the angels there
Something in me calls out to you
Something in me is meant for you
Something in me calls out to you
Something in me is meant for you
Something in me

A Song Can Tell A Story

When words leave off, music begins.

BABETTE