Lyrics and Translations Vivaldi: Perché son molli
Transcript
Lyrics and Translations Vivaldi: Perché son molli
Lyrics and Translations Vivaldi: Perché son molli Aria Perché son molli i prati e i colli del pianto mio, quell’ agnellette schivan l’erbette quasi ricolme di rio veleno E quelle fonti ch’escon da’ monti chiare vene, perché son piene delle mie lagrime, ninfe e pastori nei loro umori più non bagnano il piede il seno. Air Because I’ve drenched the meadows and hills with my weeping, those lambs avoid the grass as though it oozed poison. And those springs that flow from the mountains in clear streams, since they’re full of my tears, nymphs and shepherds will no longer bathe nor wade in their current state. Recitativo Dunque, già ch’il mio duolo è giunto a tal ch’infesta ogni bel loco ove infelice io poso fra scoscesi dirupi, antri profondi, mestissimi recessi e spaventose inospiti boscaglie ove vestigi uman orme non stampa, disperato n’andrò e al luttuoso canto d’upupe e gufi, all’ orrendo rimbombo di ferini ululati unito al fischio di velenose serpi, a cui sovvente dall’ oscure caverne disperata risponde eco dolente, trarrò mia vita in un continuo pianto. Così gli aprici colli e i prati ameni, pastor, ninfe et armenti, più turbati non fian da’ miei tormenti. Recitative Since now my sorrow is here and haunts every beautiful spot where I stop, unhappy, then among steep cliffs, bottomless caves, the saddest depths, and ghastly, bleak underbrush where humans have not left their mark, there I’ll go in desperation; and to the tragic song of the hoopoe and owl, to the horrendous echo of wailing beasts, along with the hissing of venomous snakes, to whom often sorrowful Echo responds hopeless from her dark caverns, I will lead my life in unending tears. Thus the sunny hills and pleasant meadows, shepherds, nymphs and flocks, might no longer be upset by my torments. Aria Le fresche violette e le vezzose erbette in voi fioriscano liete gioiscano al mio partir. Air May fresh violets* and the charming herbs flourish in you, happily rejoice in my departure. So che tra lor diranno: «Lungi sarem d’affanno se quel partì da noi che coi lamenti suoi sempre ne fe’ languir.» I know that they say amongst themselves: “We will be far from our cares if this one would leave us, who with his lamenting always made us suffer.” Richard Stone * In Shakespeare, violets can symbolize constancy and devotion. In Greek mythology they symbolize humility and timidity. Romans used them to mark affection for the dead. Porsile: Le sofferte Aria Le sofferte, amare pene pon mostrarti, oh bella Irene la costanza del mio cor. Dopo il duol delle tempeste, si frequenti e si funeste, sorga omai più lieto amor. Air My anguished, bitter sorrows can show you, beautiful Irene, the constancy of my heart. After the misery of tempests — so frequent and so dire — let happier love arise at last. Recitativo Sovvienti, idolo mio, che prima che il mio core amante ardesse, valle saper da te se quella fiamma offenderti potrebbe, sovvienti, che tu allora troppo benigna, ahimè! mi promettesti colla gloria d’amarti il sospirato ben della speranza. Recitative Recall, my beloved, that, before my heart burned for you, I should have found out if that flame could offend you; Recall that you then — too kind, alas! — promised me, with the glory of loving you, the thing I’d yearned for in my hopes. Di poi cangiasti idea, ma, non perciò il mio cor cangiò pensiero. O quante volte, o quante, con ire, con rigori, e con disprezzi dura prova fascesti di mia fede e costanza, gloria ognora e trofeo de l’amor mio. And you changed your mind, but that did not change my heart’s thinking. O how many times, how many, with ire, with severity, with scorn did you harshly test my faith and constancy, ever the glory and trophy of my love? Mà, che? Troppo tu sai quando innocente soffersi i tuoi gastighi, senza che un’ eco sola mi uscissi mai del seno a querelarti, deh! But why? You know too well when I, innocent, endured your punishments, without the slightest protest ever escaping my breast. Ah! Dolcissima Irene, poiché l’ardente fiamma, ond’ io divampo, da te permessa crebbe te benigna a me trovi, e quella speme che fu per te crudele il mio martoro sia ancor per te pietosa, il mio ristoro. Sweetest Irene, since the passionate fire with which I burn grew with your permission, might you think on me benignly, and that hope I had placed in you, my cruel torment, be yours again, merciful one, my comfort. Aria Non sprezza più un fido core, dove Amore, che costante a te lo rende, cauto accende i più dolci de’ suoi strali. Bel sereno e lieta calma, torni a l’alma e non men che fra i tormenti saldi ogni ora fra i contenti fede e amore in me vedrai. Air Nevermore disdain a loyal heart, when Love, who faithfully gives it to you, carefully kindles the gentlest of his darts. Might fair serenity and happy calm return to my soul, let it be made whole among pleasures — no less than it would among torments: you will see faith and love in me. Richard Stone & Susan Gould Badia: La Fenice (The Phoenix) lyrics by Donato Cupeda (1635–1704) Recitativo Là nel arabe selve, ove la terra aprica fa della sua virtù mostra pomposa; ove battono l’aure per ciel non mai turbato ali serene; ove fragranze eterne, e balsamo vital sudan le piante; In quelle selve amene, in quel terren felice, suo degno albergo ha l’immortal Fenice. Recitative There in the Arabian forests, where the sun-drenched land makes magnificent show of its virtues, where serene wings beat breezes never churned by heaven; where the plants sweat eternal fragrances and vital balms; in those pleasant forests, in that happy land the immortal Phoenix has her worthy abode. Aria Vago stuol d’augei canori l’accompagna ove sen và E co’ metri più sonori a sue rare bellezze applauso fà. Air A lovely flock of songful birds accompanies her where she goes. And with most sonorous verses they laud her rare beauty. Recitativo Ma se, di molti lustri dopp’ il non breve giro, nelle gelide vene, irrigidir si sente gl’ottusi spirti, e intorpidirsi vanni, del tempo edace in se ripara i danni d’aridi sì, ma scelti ramuscelli odorosi compon rogo vital, nella cui fiamma all’hor, che langue estinta ne trae vita novella e dal cenere suo sorge più bella. Recitative But if, after her prolonged wanderings of many decades,* in her icy veins she feels her dull breath stiffening, and her wings numbing, she will repair the insults of ravenous Time with dry, yes, but choice, fragrant twigs, she will build a life-giving pyre, in which its flame will languish extinguished and from it brings forth new life and she arises from its cinders more beautiful. Aria Nel morir sempre rinasce di se stessa è madre e prole. Ha le fiamme per sue fasce, per cuna il rogo, e per suo padre il sole. Air From death she is ever reborn who is her own mother and child. She has flames for swaddling clothes, a pyre for cradle, and the sun as her father. Recitativo Pur non è qual si crede, cosi vago portento unico al mondo. Non è già sola in terra la Fenice immortale, del Gran Leopoldo il nome vanta prodigio, anzi maggior, ch’eguale. Agl’insulti degl’ anni pur l’Araba Fenice invecchia, e more. Ma quel nome costante contro l’armi del tempo assai più forte non paventa già mai, vecchiezza, o morte. Recitative Surely it cannot be believed that such a beautiful portent is unique. The immortal Phoenix is no longer alone on earth; her name now claims Great Leopold,** prodigious, even greater than equal. The Arabian Phoenix ages and dies by the blows of time. But his constant name, even stronger against the weapons of time, never fears age nor death. Aria Faccia il tempo quanto sà: ogni impero più fastoso cada pur di Lete al fondo. Sol quel nome glorioso nell’ oblio mai non cadrà se non cade prima il mondo. Air Let time do what it will: let even the most sumptuous empire fall to the bottom of Lethe. Only that glorious name will never sink into oblivion if the world itself does not first fall. Recitativo Dunque immortal Fenice, ch’unica trà gl’Augelli esser ti vanti, humilia i pregi tuoi Recitative Therefore, immortal Phoenix, who claim yourself unique among birds, humble your entreaties al Gran Leopoldo Augusto, Fenice de’ Regnanti, unico trà gl’Eroi, la cui gloria felice trà perigliosi incendi del fero Marte, e dell’ Invidia amara; senza languir già mai splende più chiara. before the Great Leopold August, Phoenix among Rulers, unique among heroes, the one whose happy fame — through the perilous flames of fierce Mars and bitter Envy — shines brightest and never wanes. Aria D’immortale il primo vanto vago augel ceder ben dei. Per tua gloria basti, intanto, che del Gran Leopoldo un ombra sei. Air The prime boast of “immortal” is one the beautiful bird should yield. For your glory let it suffice, hence, for you to be a shadow of Great Leopold. Richard Stone & Susan Gould *Lustrum (plural lustri in Italian) was a five-year period in ancient Rome. It represented the coincidental correspondence of an ancient Romulan 6-year cycle (1,824 days) and 5 Roman solar cycles (1,825 days). The last marking of the lustrum was under Vespasian in AD 74. **Holy Roman Emperor Leopold I, reigned 1658-1705.