Libretto
Transcription
Libretto
Carlo Colombara - The Art of the Bass www.naxos.com/catalogue/item.asp?item_code=2.110612 2.110612 Track 2 • Georges Bizet: CARMEN Livret d'Henri Meilhac (1831-1897) et Ludovic Halévy (1834-1908) (d'après la nouvelle Carmen de Prosper Mérimée) Track 2 • Georges Bizet: CARMEN Libretto by Henri Meilhac (1831-1897) and Ludovic Halévy (1834-1908) (after the novel Carmen by Prosper Mérimée) Acte II – Couplet d'Escamillo Act II – Escamillo: Couplet AMIS D’ESCAMILLO Vivat, vivat le torero! Vivat, vivat Escamillo! FRIENDS OF ESCAMILLO Long live the Toreador! Long love Escamillo! ESCAMILLO Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre, señor, señors car avec les soldats, oui, les toreros, peuvent s’entendre; pour plaisirs, pour plaisirs, ils ont les combats! Le cirque est plein, c’est jour de fête, le cirque est plein du haut en bas; les spectateurs, perdant la tête, les spectateurs s’interpellent a grand fracas! Apostrophes, cris et tapage poussés jusques à la fureur! Car c’est la fête du courage! C’est la fête des gens de coeur! Allons! en garde! allons! allons! Ah! Toréador, en garde! toréador, toréador! Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant qu’un oeil noir te regarde, et que l’amour t’attend, toreador, l’amour, l’amour t’attend! ESCAMILLO I toast you in return, Good sirs, for bullfighters And soldiers understand each other; Both take pleasure in their battles! The ring is full, it’s a holiday! The ring is full from top to bottom; The people in the crowd, losing their heads, Call to each other at the tops of their voices. Insults, shouting, uproar, Whipped up to fury pitch! For it’s a celebration of courage! It’s the day for men of valour! Let’s go! On guard! Let’s go! Let’s go! Ah! Toreador, on guard! Toreador! Toreador! And remember, remember as you fight That a pair of dark eyes are watching you And love awaits you, Toreador, love awaits you! AMIS D’ESCAMILLO Toréador, en garde! toréador, toréador! Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant qu’un oeil noir te regarde, et que l’amour t’attend, toreador, l’amour, l’amour t’attend! FRIENDS OF ESCAMILLO Toreador, on guard! Toreador! Toreador! And remember, remember as you fight That a pair of dark eyes are watching you And love awaits you, Toreador, love awaits you! ESCAMILLO Tout à coup, on fait silence, on fait silence, ah! que se passe-t-il? Plus de cris, c’est l’instant! Plus de cris, c’est l’instant! Le taureau s’elance en bondissant hors du toril! Il s’elance! Il entre, Il frappe! Un cheval roule, entrainant un picador, Ah! bravo, toro! hurle la foule, le taureau va, il vient, il vient et frappe encor! En secouant ses banderilles, plein de fureur, il court, le cirque est plein de sang! On se sauve, on franchit les grilles! C’et ton tour maintenant! Allons! en garde! allons! allons! Ah! Toréador, en garde! toréador, toréador! Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant qu’un oeil noir te regarde, et que l’amour t’attend, toreador, l’amour, l’amour t’attend! ESCAMILLO Suddenly, the crowd falls silent, Falls silent…ah! What’s happening? No more shouting, the moment’s arrived! No more shouting, the moment’s arrived! The bull comes bounding headlong Out of the pen! Bounding headlong! It enters the ring and strikes!... a horse rolls, Dragging a picador with it. “Ah! Bravo! Toro!” yells the crowd; The bull backs off, then turns…and strikes again! Shaking off the darts, Raging, it charges!... The arena’s full of blood! Everyone runs…and jumps the barriers!... Now it’s your turn! Let’s go! On guard! Let’s go! Let’s go! Ah! Toreador, on guard! Toreador! Toreador! And remember, remember as you fight That a pair of dark eyes are watching you And love awaits you, Toreador, love awaits you! AMIS D’ESCAMILLO Toréador, en garde! toréador, toréador! Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant qu’un oeil noir te regarde, et que l’amour t’attend, toreador, l’amour, l’amour t’attend! FRIENDS OF ESCAMILLO Toreador, on guard! Toreador! Toreador! And remember, remember as you fight That a pair of dark eyes are watching you And love awaits you, Toreador, love awaits you! ℗ & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd 1 Carlo Colombara - The Art of the Bass www.naxos.com/catalogue/item.asp?item_code=2.110612 2.110612 FRASQUITA L’amour! FRASQUITA Love! ESCAMILLO L’amour! ESCAMILLO Love! MERCEDES L’amour! MERCEDES Love! ESCAMILLO L’amour! ESCAMILLO Love! CARMEN L’amour! CARMEN Love! ESCAMILLO L’amour! ESCAMILLO Love! AMIS D’ESCAMILLO Toreador! Toreador! L’amour t’attend! FRIENDS OF ESCAMILLO Toreador! Toreador! Love awaits you! Track 3 • Giuseppe Verdi: DON CARLO Libretto di Joseph Méry (1797-1866) et Camille du Locle (1832-1903) Traduzione italiana di Achille de Lauzières-Themines (1818-1894) (dal dramma Don Carlos, Infant von Spanien di Friedrich Schiller) Track 3 • Giuseppe Verdi: DON CARLO Libretto by Joseph Méry (1797-1866) and Camille du Locle (1832-1903) Italian translation by Achille de Lauzières-Themines (1818-1894) (from the dramma Don Carlos, Infant von Spanien by Friedrich Schiller) Atto III – Aria di Filippo II Act III – Philip II: Aria FILIPPO II Ella giammai m’amò! No, quel cor chiuso è a me, amor per me non ha! Io la rivedo ancor contemplar triste in volto il mio crin bianco il dì che qui di Francia venne. No, amor per me non ha, Ove son?... Quei doppier presso a finir!... L’aurora imbianca il mio veron! Già spunta il dì! passar veggo i miei giorni lenti! Il sonno, o Dio! Sparì dai miei occhi languenti! Dormirò sol nel manto mio regal quando la mia giornata è giunta a sera, dormirò sol sotto la vôlta nera, là, nell’avello dell’Escurial. Se il serto regal a me desse il poter di leggere nei cor, che Dio può sol veder!... Ah! Se il serto regal a me desse il poter di leggere nei cor, che Dio può sol veder!... Se dorme il prence, veglia il traditore; il serto perde il re, il consorte l’onore! Dormirò sol nel manto mio regal quando la mia giornata è giunta a sera, dormirò sol sotto la vôlta nera, là, nell’avello dell’Escurial. Ah! Se il serto regal a me desse il poter di leggere nei cor… Ella giammai m’amò! No, quel cor chiuso è a me, amor per me non ha! PHILIP II She never loved me! No, that heart is closed to me, Love for me she never has. I still remember how sad she looked When fresh from France she noticed my white hair. No, love for me she does not have! Where am I?...Those candles will soon finish! Dawn whitens my balcony! Day is already breaking! I see my days pass slowly by! Sleep, oh God! has disappeared from my languishing eyes! I shall sleep alone in my royal mantle, When my day becomes evening. I shall sleep alone under the black vault There in the tomb of the Escurial. If the royal crown gave me the power To read in the hearts what God alone could see! Ah! If the royal crown gave me the power To read in the hearts what God alone could see! If the prince is asleep, The traitor is awake watching, The king loses his crown, his consort and his honour! I shall sleep along in my royal mantle… When my day becomes evening. I shall sleep alone under the black vault There in the tomb of the Escurial. To read in the hearts… She never loved me. No, that heart is closed to me, love for me she never has. ℗ & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd 2 Carlo Colombara - The Art of the Bass www.naxos.com/catalogue/item.asp?item_code=2.110612 2.110612 Track 4 • Gioachino Rossini: IL BARBIERE DI SIVIGLIA Libretto di Cesare Sterbini (1784-1831) (dalla commedia Le barbier de Seville di Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais) Track 4 • Gioachino Rossini: IL BARBIERE DI SIVIGLIA Libretto bu Cesare Sterbini (1784-1831) (from the comedy Le barbier de Seville by Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais) Atto II – Aria di Don Basilio Act II –Don Basilio: Aria DON BASILIO La calunnia è un venticello, un’auretta assai gentile che insensibile, sottile, leggermente, dolcemente incomincia, incomincia a sussurrar. Piano piano, terra terra, sottovoce, sibilando, va scorrendo, va scorrendo, va ronzando, va ronzando; nelle orecchie della gente s’introduce destramente e le teste ed i cervelli fa stordire e fa gonfiar. Dalla bocca fuori uscendo lo schiamazzo va crescendo, prende forza a poco a poco, vola già di loco in loco; sembra il tuono, la tempesta che nel sen della foresta va fischiando, brontolando e ti fa d’orror gelar. Alla fin trabocca e scoppia, si propaga, si raddoppia e produce un’esplosione come un colpo di cannone, come un colpo di cannone, un tremuoto, un temporale, un tremuoto, un temporale, un tumulto generale, che fa l’aria rimbombar. E il meschino calunniato, avvilito, calpestato, sotto il pubblico flagello per gran sorte ha crepar. DON BASILIO Slander is a little breeze, a very gentle zephir which imperceptibly, subtly, lightly, sweetly, begins to whisper. Softly, at ground level, in an undertone, hissing, it goes spreading, it goes buzzing. Into the ears of people It penetrates insidiously, and the heads and the brains become bewildered and inflated. Once it leaves the mouth The noise keeps increasing, gathering strength little by little, already flying from place to place; like thunder, like a storm that rips through a forest whistling and rumbling, it freezes you in terror. At the end it overflows and breaks loose, it spreads, redoubles and produces an explosion like a cannon shot, like a cannon shot, an earthquake, a fierce gust, an earthquake, a fierce gust, an all round shake-up that sends the air a-buzzing. And the wretched slandered one, humbled and trampled on by the public whipping, with a bit of luck, goes off and dies. Track 5 • Giuseppe Verdi: SIMON BOCCANEGRA Libretto di Francesco Maria Piave (1784-1831), adattamento di Arrigo Boito (1842-1918) (dal dramma Simón Bocanegra di Antonio García Gutiérrez) Track 5 • Giuseppe Verdi: SIMON BOCCANEGRA Libretto by Francesco Maria Piave (1810-1876), revised by Arrigo Boito (1842-1918) (after Antonio García Gutiérrez’s play Simón Bocanegra) Prologo – Aria di Jacopo Fiesco (Andrea Grimaldi) Prologue – Jacopo Fiesco (Andrea Grimaldi): Aria FIESCO A te l’estremo addio, palagio altero, freddo sepolcro dell’angiolo mio! Nè a proteggerti valsi! Oh maledetto! Oh vile seduttore! E tu, Vergin, soffristi rapita a lei la verginal corona? Ah! che dissi? Deliro! Ah, mi perdona! Il lacerato spirito del mesto genitore era serbato a strazio d’infamia e di dolore. FIESCO I bid you a final farewell, noble mansion, icy sepulchre of my beloved angel! I failed to protect you! Oh wretch! Oh cowardly seducer! And you, Virgin, did you allow her virginal crown to be stolen? Ah! what have I said? I am delirious! Ah, forgive me! This desperate father’s broken spirit was destined to be destroyed by dishonour and grief. WOMEN’S CHORUS ? morta! ? morta! WOMEN’S CHORUS! She is dead! She is dead! MEN’S CHORUS Miserere!... miserere!... MEN’S CHORUS Miserere!... miserere!... ℗ & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd 3 Carlo Colombara - The Art of the Bass www.naxos.com/catalogue/item.asp?item_code=2.110612 2.110612 FIESCO Il serto a lei de’martir pietoso il cielo diè... Resa al fulgor degli angeli, prega, Maria, per me. FIESCO Merciful heaven has given her a martyr’s crown. Now on high, amid the angels’ radiance, Maria, pray for me. CHORUS Mai più!... mai più non la vedremo in terra!... CHORUS Never more!... never more shall we see her on earth!... MEN’S CHORUS Miserere!... miserere!... MEN’S CHORUS Miserere!... miserere!... FIESCO Resa al fulgor degli angeli, prega, Maria, per me... FIESCO Now on high, amid the angels’ radiance, Maria, pray for me. CHORUS Mai più!... mai più non la vedremo in terra!... Miserere!... miserere!... CHORUS Never more!... never more shall we see her on earth!... Miserere!... miserere!... FIESCO Prega, Maria, per me! FIESCO Maria, pray for me! Track 6 • Charles Gounod: FAUST Livret de Jules Barbier (1825-1901) et Michel Carré (1821-1872) (basé sur la légende du même nom et la pièce de Johann Wolfgang von Goethe) Track 6 • Charles Gounod: FAUST Libretto by Jules Barbier (1825-1901) and Michel Carré (1821-1872) (based on the legend of the same title by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe) Acte IV – Sérénade de Méphistophélès Act IV –Mephistopheles: Serenade MÉPHISTOPHÉLÈS Vous qui faites l’endormie, n’entendez-vous pas... n’entendez-vous pas! O Catherine, ma mie, n’entendez-vous pas ma voix et mes pas? Ainsi ton galant t’appelle... ainsi ton galant t’appelle... et ton coeur l’en croit. Ah! ah! ah! ah!... N’ouvre ta porte, ma belle, que la bague au doigt! Catherine que j’adore. Pourquoi refuser... a l’amant qui vous implore, pourquoi refuser un si doux baiser? Ainsi ton galant supplie... et ton coeur l’en croit. Ah! ah! ah! ah!... Ne donne un baiser, ma mie, que la bague au doigt... Ah! ah! ah! ah!... MEPHISTOPHELES You who pretend to sleep, can you not hear… Can you not hear! Oh Catherine my love? Can you not hear my voice and my steps? And so your young man calls… And so your young man calls… And your heart believes him!... Ha, ha! Do not open the door, my beauty, till the ring is on your finger! Catherine whom I adore, why refuse a lover who begs you, why refuse a sweet little kiss? And so your young man pleads, and your heart believes him!... Ha, ha! Do not kiss him, my love, till the ring is on your finger! Ha, ha!... Track 7 • Giuseppe Verdi: NABUCCO Libretto di Temistocle Solera (1815-1878) (dal dramma Nabuchodonosor di Auguste Anicet-Bourgeois) Track 7 • Giuseppe Verdi: NABUCCO Libretto by Temistocle Solera (1815-1878) (from the play Nabuchodonosor by Auguste Anicet-Bourgeois) Atto II – Preghiera di Zaccaria Act II – Zaccaria: Invocation ZACCARIA Vieni, o Levita!... Il Santo Codice reca! Di novel portento me vuol ministro Iddio!... Me servo manda, per gloria d’Israele, le tenebre a squarciar d’un’infedele. Tu sul labbro de’ veggenti fulminasti, o sommo Iddio! ZACCARIA Come, O Levite, and bring forth the Holy Law! Law of new portents! God wants me as His minister! He commands me, For the glory of Israel, to expel the darkness of an infidel. On the lips of the prophets Though hast fulminated, o almighty God! ℗ & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd 4 Carlo Colombara - The Art of the Bass www.naxos.com/catalogue/item.asp?item_code=2.110612 2.110612 All’Assiria in forti accenti parla or tu col labbro mio!... E di canti a te sacrati ogni tempio suonerà; sovra gl’idoli spezzati la tua Legge sorgerà, e di canti a te sacrati ogni tempio suonerà! To Assyria in dark intonation Thou speak now through mine lips! Songs devoted to Thee Will ring from every temple; Above the broken idols Thy Law will rise. Songs devoted to Thee Will ring from every temple! Track 8 • Arrigo Boito: MEFISTOFELE Libretto del compositore (liberamente tratto dal Faust di Johann Wolfgang von Goethe) Track 8 • Arrigo Boito: MEFISTOFELE Libretto by the composer (freely adapted from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s Faust) Atto II – Aria di Mefistofele Act II – Mephistopheles: Aria Ecco il mondo, vuoto e tondo, s’alza, scende, balza e splende. Fa carole intorno al sole, trema, rugge, dà e distrugge, ora sterile, or fecondo. Ecco il mondo. Sul suo grosso antico dosso v’è una schiatta e sozza e matta, fiera, vile, ria, sottile, che ad ogn’ora si divora dalla cima sino al fondo del reo mondo. Fola vana è a lei Satàna, riso e scherno è a lei l’Inferno, scherno e riso il Paradiso. Oh! per Dio! Che or rido anch’io, nel pensare ciò che le ascondo. Ah! ah! ah! ah!... Ecco il mondo! Behold the world, an empty sphere, it rises and falls, pulses and shines. It dances around the sun, trembles, roars, creates and destroys, sometimes barren, sometimes fertile. Behold the worUpon its wide and ancient surface lives a foul and foolish people, proud, base, evil, sly, continually devouring itself from the heights to the depths of this wicked world. It sees Satan as an idle tale, it laughs and sneers at the idea of hell, it laughs and sneers at paradise. Oh, by God! how I too laugh now when I think of what I’m hiding from it. Ha, ha, ha, ha!... Behold the world! Track 9 • Giuseppe Verdi: ATTILA Libretto di Temistocle Solera (1815-1878); revisione di Francesco Maria Piave (1810-1876) (dal dramma Attila, König der Hunnen di Zacharias Werner) Track 9 • Giuseppe Verdi: ATTILA Libretto by Temistocle Solera (1815-1878); revised by Francesco Maria Piave (1810-1876) (after Zacharias Werner’s play Attila, König der Hunnen) Atto I – Recitativo, Aria e Cabaletta di Attila Act I – Attila: Recitative, Aria and Cabaletta ATTILA Uldino! Uldin! ATTILA Uldino! Uldino! ULDINO Mio re! ULDINO My king! ATTILA Non hai veduto? ATTILA Did you not see him? ULDINO Che mai? ULDINO What? ATTILA Tu non udisti? ATTILA Did you not hear him? ULDINO Io? Nulla. ULDINO I? No, nothing. ℗ & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd 5 Carlo Colombara - The Art of the Bass www.naxos.com/catalogue/item.asp?item_code=2.110612 2.110612 ATTILA Eppur feroce qui s’aggirava. Ei mi parlò... sua voce parea vento in caverna! ATTILA And yet he here did grimly tread. He spoke to me... his voice echoed like the wind in a cave! ULDINO Oh re, d’intorno tutto è silenzio... della vigil scolta batte soltanto il piè. ULDINO My lord, all around is silence… broken only by the pacing of the sentry back and forth. ATTILA Mio fido, ascolta! Mentre gonfiarsi l’anima parea dinanzi a Roma, m’apparve immane un veglio, che m’afferrò la chioma... Il senso ebb’io travolto, la man gelò sul brando; ei mi sorrise in volto, e tal mi fe’ commando: di flagellar l’incarco contro i mortali hai sol. T’arretra!... or chiuso è il varco; questo de’ Numi è il suol! In me tai detti suonano cupi, fatali ancor, e l’alma in petto ad Attila s’agghiaccia pel terror. ATTILA Faithful servant, listen to me! As my heart seemed to swell at the thought of Rome, a terrifying old man appeared to me and grabbed hold of my hair… My senses were overwhelmed, my hand froze on my sword; he smiled at me and did command me thus: “You will bring only suffering to mortal men. Retreat!... the way is closed to you; this is the land of the gods!” Such words sounded the knell of doom within me, and Attila’s heart did freeze with fear within his breast. ULDINO Raccapriccio! E che far pensi? ULDINO Oh horror! What will you do? ATTILA Or son liberi i miei sensi! Ho rossor del mio spavento! Chiama i druidi, i duci, i re. Già più rapido del vento, Roma iniqua, volo a te. Oltre a quel limite t’attendo, o spettro! Vietarlo ad Attila chi mai potrà? Vedrai se pavido io là m’arretro, se alfin me vindice il mondo avrà. ATTILA I have returned to my senses! I am ashamed of my fearfulness! Summon the druids, leaders and kings. Iniquitous Rome, I fly to you now, swifter than the wind. I shall await you, o spectre, beyond the enemy line. Who will have the power to stop Attila now? You will see whether I retreat in trepidation, or whether I at last claim vengeance for the world. Track 10 • Sergey Rachmaninov: ALEKO Libretto by Vladimir Nemirovich-Danchenko (1858-1943), after Pushkin’s poem The Gypsies Track 10 • Sergey Rachmaninov: ALEKO Libretto by Vladimir Nemirovich-Danchenko (1858-1943), after Pushkin’s poem The Gypsies Cavatina Cavatina Ves’ tabor spit. Luna nad nim polnochnoy krasotoyu bleshchet. Chto zh serdtse bednoye trepeshchet? Kakoyu grust’yu ya tomim? Ya bez zabot, bez sozhalen’ya vedu kochuyushchiye dni, Prezrev okovï prosveshchen’ya, ya volen tak zhe kak oni. Ya zhil, ne priznavaya vlasti sud’bï kovarnoy i slepoy. No, Bozhe, kak igrayut strasti moey poslushnoyu dushoy! Zemfira! Kak ona lyubila! Kak nezhno preklonyas ko mne, v pustïnnoy tishine chasï nochnïye provodila! Kak chasto milïm lepetan’yem, upoitel’nïm lobzan’yem, Zadumchivost’ moyu v minutu razognat’ umela! Ya pomnyu: s negoy polnoy strasti, sheptala mne ona togda: ‘Lyublyu tebya! V tvoyey ya vlasti! Tvoya, Aleko, navsegda!’ I vsyo togda ya zabïval, kogda recham eyo vnimal. I, kak bezumnïy, tseloval eyo charuyushchiye ochi, Kos chudnïkh pryad temneye nochi, usta Zemfirï… The gipsy camp is asleep. The moon above it shines with midnight beauty. Why is my poor heart flutters so? What saddens me? I live my wandering days without troubles or regret, I detest the bounds of enlightenment, and I am free. I do not recognise the power of perfidious and blind fate. But oh, God, how passions torment my obedient soul! Zemfira! How she loved me! How gently she leaned to me, as we spent the night hours in desert’s stillness! How often with sweet whispers, with delightful kisses, She could chase away in one moment my thoughtfulness! I remember: with a full passion, she whispered then to me: ‘I love you! I am in your power! I am yours forever, Aleko!’ And when I heard such words, I forgot everything else. And, as a madman, I kissed her enchanting eyes, The waves of her hair, blacker than the night, and Zemfira’s lips… ℗ & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd 6 Carlo Colombara - The Art of the Bass www.naxos.com/catalogue/item.asp?item_code=2.110612 2.110612 A ona vsya negoy strast’yu polna pril’nuv ko mne, v glaza glyadela… I chto zh? Zemfira ne verna! Moya Zemfira okhadela! And she looked into my eyes, all overcome with passion… And now? Zemfira is not loyal! My Zemfira grew cold! Track 11 • Modest Mussorgsky: BORIS GODUNOV Libretto by the composer Track 11 • Modest Mussorgsky: BORIS GODUNOV Libretto by the composer Act IV – Proshchay moy sïn Act IV – Goodbye, my son BORIS GODUNOV Oy, dushno! Dushno! Svetu! Tsarevicha skorey! Okh, tyazhko mne, skhimu! Ostav’te nas! Uydite vse! BORIS GODUNOV Oh, I cannot breathe! Let in the light! Quick, call the tsarevich! Oh, I suffer, bring me my monastic robes! Leave us alone! All leave! Proshchay moy sïn, umirayu… Seychas tï tsarstvovat’ nachnyosh’. Ne sprashivay, kakim putyom ya tsarstvo priobryol… Tebe ne nuzhno znat’. Tï tsarstvovat’ po pravu budesh’, Kak moy naslednik, kak sïn moy pervorodnïy… Sïn moy! Ditya moyo, rodnoye! Venets tebe dostalsya v tyazhkuyu godinu. Silyon zloy Samozvanets! On imenem uzhasnïm opolchyon. Vokrug tebya boyar kramola, izmena voyska… Glad i mor… Slushay, Fyodor: ne vveryaysya sovetam boyar kramol’nïkh, Zorko sledi za ikh snosheniyami taynïmi s Litvoyu, Izmenu karay bez poshchadï, bez milosti karay; Strogo vnikay v sud narodnïy, sud nelitsemernïy, Stoy na strazhe bortsom za veru pravuyu, Svyato chti svyatïkh ugodnikov bozh’ikh. Soblyudi tï chistotu svoyu Fyodor, v ney moshch’ tvoya i sila, I razuma krepost’, i spasen’ye. Sestru svoyu, tsarevnu, sberegi, moy sïn, tï yey odin khranitel’ ostayosh’sya… Nashey Ksenii, golubke chistoy. Gospodi! Gospodi, vozzri, molyu, na slyozï greshnogo otsa; Ne za sebya molyu, ne za sebya, moy Bozhe!.. S gornoy nepristupnoy vïsotï proley tï blagodatnïy svet na chad moikh, Nevinnïkh, krotkikh, chistïkh… Silï nebesnïye!.. Strazhi trona predvechnogo… Krïlami svetlïmi vï okhranite moye ditya rodnoye ot bed i zol… ot iskusheniy… Zvon!.. Pogrebal’nïy zvon!... Nadgrobnïy vopl’, Skhima… svyataya skhima… v monakhi tsar’ idyot. Farewell, my son, I am dying… Now you will begin your reign. Do not ask me how I became a tsar… You need not know, you will reign as a rightful ruler, As my heir, my firstborn son. My son! My dear child! You inherit the crown at a difficult time. The Pretender is strong. He goes under a terrifying name… Around you is boyar’s rebellion, treachery of the army… Hunger and plague… Listen, Fyodor, do not listen to the advice of rebellious boyars, Follow closely all their secret dealings with Lithuania, Punish betrayal without mercy, Be attentive to your people and their wisdom, Be the guardian of our faith, And respect the God’s saints. Stay pure, Fyodor, this will give you strength and power, And clarity of mind, and bring salvation. Take care of your sister, you are her only guardian now… Our Kseniya, our pure little dove. God, please look at the tears of this sinful father; I am not praying for myself, my God! Send your blessed light from the unreachable heights onto my children, Innocent, humble, pure… Heavenly powers! Guardians of the eternal throne… Shield my dear children with your shining wings from harm and temptation. The bells! I hear funeral bells! The funeral dirge! My holy monastic robes! I want to die a monk. FYODOR: Gosudar’, uspokoysya! Gospod’ pomozhet… FYODOR My lord, be calm! God will help you! BORIS GODUNOV Net! net, sïn moy, chas moy probil… Bozhe! Bozhe! Tyazhko mne! Uzhel’ grekha ne zamolyu! O, zlaya smert’! Kak muchish tï zhestoko! Povremenite… ya tsar’ eshchyo! Ya tsar’ eshchyo… Bozhe! Smert’! Prosti menya! Vot, vot tsar’ vash… tsar’… prostite… prostite… BORIS GODUNOV No, no, my son, my hour has come… God! God! I suffer! Will you not forgive my sin? Oh, evil death! How you torment me! Wait… I am still your tsar! God! Death! Forgive me! Here, here is your… tsar… Forgive me… forgive me… English translations by Diana Liao, Susannah Howe and Anastasia Belina ℗ & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd 7