Esperanza Spalding & William Blake: Little Fly

Photo by Johann Sauty  esperanzaspalding.com

On the one hand, there is a stunning musician: Esperanza Spalding, the charismatic bassist, composer, and singer, who distinguished herself in the contemporary jazz scene. On the other hand, there is a long gone but not forgotten poet: William Blake, an original, radical, and massively influential artist, who became a key figure in the Romantic movement. Esperanza Spalding’s third solo album Chamber Music Society, released in 2010, includes a track called Little Fly: this is William  Blake’s poem The Fly, from his collection Songs of Experience, published in 1794. 

Two hundred and sixteen years later, the former seems to be very happy, and I have no doubt that the same would apply to the latter just as much: that “Billie Blake Lives” graffiti outside Paddington Station was no accident.

                                                             The Fly

                                                              Little Fly,
                                                              Thy summer’s play
                                                              My thoughtless hand
                                                              Has brushed away.

                                                              Am not I
                                                              A fly like thee?
                                                              Or art not thou
                                                              A man like me?

                                                              For I dance,
                                                              And drink, and sing,
                                                              Till some blind hand
                                                              Shall brush my wing.

                                                              If thought is life
                                                              And strength and breath,
                                                              And the want
                                                              Of thought is death;

                                                              Then am I
                                                              A happy fly.
                                                              If I live,
                                                              Or if I die.

                                                               

Portrait by  Thomas Phillips    Wikipedia