Collaboration of Drama and Poems

Below is a drama script which has been combined with three poems for our past task in drama and poetry class. The drama script isn't the original one, though. We adjust the drama script and poems based on the number of people in our group. 
Here I just want to share it, maybe you want to try it too. I'm glad to hear your comment whether it's good or not. Hope you like it! (Note : Please credit to us if you want to copy this. Thankyou!)

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The Sandbox By Edward Albee

Arranged By :

Fitria (1500026011)

Ropiah (1500026013)

Siti Jumarni (1500026016)

Agie Efriyandes (1500026023)

Nurrahmawati (1500026028)

Fatma Fadhilah (1500026037)

Mutiara Pratama Putri (1500026038)

Shella Antoro Putri (1500026040)

Saniatul Istiadah (1500026043)

Class A

English Letters Department

Faculty of Literature, Culture, and Communication

Universitas Ahmad Dahlan

Yogyakarta

2017

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The Sandbox By Edward Albee

The first poet comes in and recites the poem 1.

Death, be not proud By John Donne

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow

Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,

Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,

And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Narrator:

In a sunny day, a family gathered in a beach, they are Mommy, Daughter, Daddy, and Grandma. All of them except Grandma look very happy as similar with the weather. They look like want to do something. In the other hand, Grandma looks so sad, and she expresses her feeling by screaming, she muse over what will happens to her next.

Mommy                       :  “Well, here we are in the beach.”

Daughter                      :  “Yes mom… It’s very nice place”

Daddy                          :  (Whining) “I’m cold.”

Mommy                       :  (Looking about) “Here do perfectly… Do you think so, daddy?”

Daddy                          :  (Vaguely) “Whatever you say, Mommy.”

Mommy                       :  (Looking to daughter) “And what do you think, Daughter?”

Daughter                      :  (With flat expression) “It’s perfect, Mom”

Mommy                       :  (With a little laugh) “Well, of course…whatever I say, right, Daddy?”

Daddy                          :  (Shrugs) “She’s your mother, not mine.”

Mommy                     :  “I know she’s my mother. What do you take me for?” (Pause) “All right, now; let’s get on with it.” (She shouts to the stage-left) “You! Out there! You can come in now” (The poet enters, seats herself in the chair, stage-left, places music on the music stand, is ready to play. Mommy nods approvingly.) “Very nice; very nice. Are you ready, Daughter and Daddy? Let’s go get Grandma and pick up the sand.”

Daddy                         :  “Whatever you say, Mommy.”

Mommy looks to Daddy with sour face then looks to Daughter.

Daughter                     :  “Okay, Dad… Let’s go!”

Mommy                      :  (leading the way out, stage-left) “Of course, whatever I say.” (To second poet come in) “You can begin now.”

The second poet recite the poem 2.

My Grave By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

If, when I die, I must be buried, let

No cemetery engulph me — no lone grot,

Where the great palpitating world comes not,

Save when, with heart bowed down and eyelids wet,

It pays its last sad melancholy debt

To some outjourneying pilgrim. May my lot

Be rather to lie in some much-used spot,

Where human life, with all its noise and fret,

Throbs on about me. Let the roll of wheels,

With all earth’s sounds of pleasure, commerce, love,

And rush of hurrying feet surge o’er my head.

Even in my grave I shall be one who feels

Close kinship with the pulsing world above;

And too deep silence would distress me, dead.

The second poet finishes reciting her poem and leaves the stage.

Daughter and Daddy come in and drag Grandma’ by force.

Young Woman          :  (With the same endearing smile) “Hi!”  (After a moment, Daughter and Daddy re-enter, carrying Grandma. Grandma look gloomy, full of puzzlement and fear.)

Daughter                   :  “Mom…”

Daddy                       :  “Where do we put this?” (Bring a bucket of sand on one hand and

    shovel on another hand)

Mommy                 :  (With a little laugh) “Wherever I say, of course. Let me see…well…all right, over there…in the sandbox.” (Pause) “Well, what are you waiting for, Daughter, Daddy?” (Face each other) “The sandbox!” (Together they carry Grandma over to the sandbox and more or less dump her in.)

Grandma                  : (Righting herself to a sitting position; her voice a cross between a baby’s laugh and cry) “Ahhhhhh!  Graaaaa!”

Daddy                       :  “Do you think… she’s…comfortable?”

Mommy                    :  (Impatiently) “I don’t know!”

Daughter                   :  “Maybe she feels comfortable Dad. Don’t worry.”

Daughter                   :  “What do we do now? How if we put the sand into her?”

Mommy                    :  “Good idea! Come on dad, do it now! (Put the sand into the sandbox)

Grandma                   :  (Same as before) “Ahhhhh! Ah-haaaaaaa!  Graaaaaa!”

Mommy                  :  “Be quiet, Grandma…just be quiet, and wait. (Mommy, Daughter, and Daddy throw the sand at grandma)

Grandma                   :  “GRAAAAAA!”

Mommy                    :  “Is she really die, Daddy?

Daddy                       :  “Wait wait…erm ok” (look into the sandbox)

Mommy                    :  “Yes!!! Now we are free. Let’s go home Daddy.”

Daughter                   :  “Wait.. wait Mom…(look behind) Come on Daddy”

Mommy, Daddy, and Daughter leave the stage. Young Woman comes in

Young Woman          :  (She comes toward Grandma and bend) “Hi….”

Listening to Grandma…

Grandma                 :  “My husband died when I was thirty, and I had to raise that big cow over there” (indicates Mommy) “All by my lonesome. Anyhow, I had to raise … that over there all by my lonesome; and what’s next to her there…that’s what she married. Rich? I tell you…money, money, money. They took me off the farm…which was real decent of them…and they moved me into the big town house with them…fixed a nice place for me under the stove…gave me an army blanket…and my own dish…my very own dish! So what can i complain about? Nothing, of course! I’m not complaining.” (She looks up at the sky)

Grandma                     :  “I … I can’t move…”

Young Woman            :  “Uh…ma’am; I…I have a line here.”

Grandma                     :  “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie; you go right ahead.”

Young Woman            :  “I am …uh… I am the Angel of Death. I am…uh…I am come for you.”

Grandma                     :  “I see”

Grandma hugs the Young Woman

Grandma                     :  “I can’t move” (crying)

Young Woman            :  (Still kneeling) “Shhhhh…be still…”

Grandma                     : “Thank you…”

Young Woman puts his hands on top of Grandma’s hands

The third poet comes in and recites the poem 3.

Remember By Christina Rossetti

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more, day by day,
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while 
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave 
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile 
Than that you should remember and be sad.

The third poet leaves the stage.

Narrator:

All the tears, suffers, sadness vanished in just one tap on shoulder from the young woman who is actually a death angel. Death is a gift from god for grand ma, so that she can live happily in the next world. Thus, in the last, Grandma rest in peace with a smile on her face.

--------------------------------------------------THE END---------------------------------------------------

NOTE

Cast :

Fitria as Narrator

Mutiara Pratama Putri as Poet 1

Nurrahmawati as Poet 2

Saniatul Istiadah as Poet 3

Siti Jumarni as Mommy

Agie Efriyandes as Daddy

Ropiah as Young Woman

Fatma Fadhilah as Grandma

Shella Antoro Putri as Daughter

Sound Track :

(Yiruma) River_Flow_in_You - Sungha Jung (Classical Guitar)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mnhr7wn0noE

Naruto - Sadness and Sorrow (Violin Cover) - Taylor Davis

(Pachelbel) Canon_- Sungha Jung

Property :

Chairs

Sandbox

Sand

Shovel

Setting :

Living Room (As The Beach)

Thanks to:

1.      God who give us mercy and blessing so we can prepare and finish our drama in two days.

2.      Our lecturer; Ulaya Ahdiani, S.S, M.Hum who is our lecturer in drama analysis subject, and Tri Rina Budiwati, S.S, M.Hum who is our lecturer in poetry analysis subject.

3.      Our team and our friends who help us to make this drama video from the beginning till the end.

Created by English Letters Department 2015.

Copyright 2017.