Libretto

Carlo Colombara - The Art of the Bass
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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!
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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.
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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!...
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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!
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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.
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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…
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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
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