Lyrics - Naxos

MEYERBEER, G.: Songs (Rotem, Zak)
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[1] Le ricordanze (1833)
Text by Gaetano Rossi (1774–1855)
Memories
1. Son questi i cari platani,
Quest’è l’amico rio
Ma tristi ne son l’aure,
N’è mesto il mormorio,
E par cangiato inanime
Tutto d’intorno a me.
Ah! lui che adoro, oh Dio,
Lui, qui più non è,
No, no, no, no, qui più non è.
1. These are my beloved sycamores,
This is the friendly stream,
But the breezes blow sadly now,
The brook’s murmuring is mournful,
And everything around me
Seems changed, lifeless.
Ah, he whom I adore, oh, God,
He is no longer here,
No, no, no, no, no longer here.
2. Qual gioia allor confondere
Sospiri ardor desiri,
Sentire al suo rispondere
Di chi s’adora il cor,
Momenti di contenti
A me presenti ognor...
Torna o speranza a illudermi,
Di’ che verranno ancor...
Di’! di’! che verranno ancor.
2. What joy it was to intermingle
Sighs, passions, desires,
To hear the response
Of the man my heart adored,
Moments of delight
That will always be with me...
O hope, return to deceive me,
Say that they’ll come back again...
Say it! Say that they’ll return.
[2] De’ miei giorni (Délire) (1840)
Text by F.N. del Santo Mango
Canzona
At the Dawn of Each Day [Madness]
De’ miei giorni sull’aurora
Vivo solo per te soffrir
Quel crudele che m’innamora
Par di gelo a’ miei sospir;
Se pietà de’ pianti miei
Lo potesse innamorar,
Notte e giorno io piangerei,
Ma follia saria sperar:
Un sorriso non negarmi,
E d’amor io morirò.
At the dawn of each day
I live only to languish for you;
For that cruel man who fills me with love
Behaves with coldness to my longing;
If pity for my tears
Might fill him with love,
I could weep night and day,
But it would be madness to hope:
Do not deny me a smile,
And I shall die of love.
Forse un giorno men crudele
Al mio sen ritornerà.
E quest’alma più fedele
Al suo cor rispanderà.
Se la gioja del mio core
Il crudel infiammerà,
Ogni pena, ogni dolore
Nel mio petto cesserà.
Un sorriso non negarmi,
E d’amor io morirò.
Perhaps some day, less cruel,
He’ll return to my breast,
And my soul, more faithful,
Will open to his heart again.
If the cruel man rekindles
The joy of my heart,
All pains, all sorrows
In my breast will cease.
Do not deny me a smile,
And I shall die of love.
[3] Il nascere e il fiorire d’una rosa (1823)
Canzonetta (poeta ignoto)
The Birth and Flowering of a Rose
Canzonetta (poet unknown)
Vaga rosa spuntar vidi,
Porporina in sull’aurora;
Nel suo buccio chiusa ancora,
Già segnava la beltà.
Vaga rosa, porporina
Nel suo buccio chiusa ancora,
Già segnava la beltà.
I saw a pretty rose a-budding,
All purple in dawn’s light;
Still wrapped tightly in its mantle
It already presaged beauty.
Pretty rose, all purple,
Still wrapped tightly in its mantle,
It already presaged beauty.
Quella rosa poi rividi,
Il suo seno allor schiudeva;
Ogni fiore a lei cedeva
E regnava in sua beltà.
Quella rosa, il suo seno
Ogni fiore a lei cedeva
E regnava in sua beltà.
Later I saw that rose again,
Its breast then fully blown;
Every flower bowed to it,
For its beauty reigned supreme.
Every flower bowed
To that rose and its breast,
And it reigned in beauty.
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Ballad
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MEYERBEER, G.: Songs (Rotem, Zak)
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Sei canzonette italiane (1810):
Text by Pietro Metastasio (1698–1782), revised
by F.N. del Santo Mango, 1840
Six Italian Canzonette
[4] Sceglier fra mille un core
1. Sceglier fra mille un core,
In lui formarsi il nido
E poi trovarlo infido,
È troppo gran dolor.
1. To choose one heart among thousands,
To build a love-nest in it,
And then to find it unfaithful
Is too great a sorrow to bear.
Ah, voi che provate amore,
Che infedeltà soffrite,
Dite se è pena, e dite,
Dite se ne dà maggior.
Ah, you who have known love,
You who have suffered unfaithfulness,
Tell me if this is pain, tell me,
Tell me if it will be worse.
Seglier fra mille un core,
E poi trovarlo infido,
Dite se è pene, e dite,
Dite se ne dà maggior.
To choose one heart among thousands,
And then to find it unfaithful,
Tell me if this is pain, tell me,
Tell me if it will be worse.
[5] Da voi, da voi, cari lumi
2. Da voi, da voi, cari lumi,
Dipende, dipende il mio stato:
Voi siete i miei numi:
Voi siete il mio fato:
A vostro talento
Mi sento cangiar.
2. On you, on you, dear eyes,
Depends my disposition;
You’re my gods,
You’re my destiny,
I feel myself change
At your slightest whim.
Ardir, ardir m’inspirate,
Se lieti, se lieti splendate;
Se torbidi siete,
Mi fate tremar...
When you sparkle happily
You inspire me to passion;
But when you’re angry
You make me tremble...
Da voi, da voi, cari lumi, ecc.
On you, on you, dear eyes, etc.
[6] Giura il nocchier
3. Giura il nocchier
Che al mare non presterà più fede...
Ma se tranquillo il vede
Corre di muovo al mar.
3. The sailor swears
That he’ll no longer trust the sea...
But if he finds it tranquil
He sets sail immediately.
Di non trattar più l’armi
Giura il guerrier tal volta,
Ma se una tromba ascolta,
Non si sa più frenar.
The soldier often swears
Not to take up arms again,
But if he hears a trumpet
He can’t restrain himself.
[7] Bei labbri che amore
4. Bei labbri che amore
Formò per suo nido,
Vi credo, mi fido:
Non ho più timore,
Giuraste d’amarmi,
Mi basta così.
4. Beautiful lips that love
Formed for its nest,
I believe you, I trust you;
I have nothing to fear,
For you swore you loved me,
And that’s enough for me.
Se torno a lagnarmi,
Che Nice m’offenda,
Per me più non splenda
La luce del dì.
If I start to complain
That Nice is playing me false,
Then the light of the day
Will no longer shine for me.
[8] Se non ti moro allato
5. Se non ti moro allato,
Idolo del cor mio,
Col tuo bel nome amato
Tra’ labbri io morirò...
5. If I cannot die beside you,
Idol of my heart,
Then I’ll die with your
Beloved name upon my lips...
Addio, mia vita,
Non pianger il mio fato,
Misero non son io,
Sei fida ed io losco...
Farewell, my life,
Don’t shed tears over my fate,
I’m not to be pitied,
For you are trusting and I am suspicious...
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MEYERBEER, G.: Songs (Rotem, Zak)
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[9] Basta dir ch’io sono amante
6. Basta dir ch’io sono amante,
Per saper ch’ho già nel petto
Questo barbaro sospetto,
Che avvelena ogni piacer,
Che ha cent’occhi,
E pur travede,
Che il mal finge,
Il ben non crede;
Che dipinge
Nel sembiante
I deliri del pensier...
Per saper ch’ho già nel petto
Questo barbaro sospetto,
Basta dir... ch’io sono amante.
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6. It’s enough to say that I’m a lover,
To know that my heart is already filled
With that barbarous suspicion
That poisons every pleasure,
That has a hundred eyes
And still can’t see clearly,
That imagines evil
And distrusts good,
That depicts
As reality
The deliriums of imagination...
To know that my heart is already filled
With that barbarous suspicion,
Is enough to say... that I’m a lover.
[10] La dame invisible (1845)
Text by Amédé Edmond Thierry
The Invisible Lady
LA DAME
Doux passant, dis-moi qui t’amène,
Lorsqu’à peine blanchit le jour incertain,
Sur ce banc où ta main dépose
Une rose toute humide de chaque matin.
À travers l’étroite fenêtre
Ne penètre que le jour discret,
Tu le vois.
Quel est le charme qui t’arrête,
Ô doux passant, réveur ou poète,
Quel est le charme qui t’arrête?
THE LADY
Sweet passerby, the uncertain day
Has barely dawned, tell me what brings you
To that bench where every morning
Your hand deposits a rose all moist with dew.
Only a faint light enters
Through this small window,
As you can see.
What is the attraction that holds you here,
O sweet passerby, dreamer or poet,
What’s the attraction that holds you?
LE PASSANT
C’est ta voix!
THE PASSERBY
It’s your voice!
LA DAME
Tu ne connais pas mon visage,
Sois plus sage que tant de jeunes imprudents,
Crains ce qui ment, laisse les faire
Et préfère aux belles voix les belles dents.
Sais tu si je ressemble aux songes
Doux mensonges, dont te berce un démon
Moqueur
Et qui t’a dit qu’en levant le voile
J’avais l’oeil divin d’une étoile?
THE LADY
You cannot see my face,
Be wiser than so many imprudent youths,
Avoid those who lie, leave them alone
And prefer instead beautiful teeth to beautiful voices.
Do you think I resemble a dream,
A sweet illusion, whose mocking demon
Deludes you;
And what has told you that by lifting my veil
You’d see that I have a sparkling eye?
LE PASSANT
C’est mon coeur!
THE PASSERBY
It’s my heart!
LA DAME
Va, crois en ton coeur, je suis belle,
Je suis celle dont le rossignol enchanté
A dit c’est la rose vermeille,
Et l’abeille, c’est le lys des jardins d’été.
Mais l’abeille s’envole et passe,
Mais l’espace ouvre à l’oiseau muraille
Et tour.
Toi qui te prêtera leurs ailes,
As-tu des talismans fidèles?
THE LADY
Go, trust your heart, for I am beautiful,
I’m the one of whom the enraptured nightingale
Sang, “It’s the crimson rose”,
And the bee said, “It’s the lily of a summer garden”.
But the bee can take off and fly away,
And the sky offers the bird an escape from walls
And towers.
Can you lend me their wings,
Do you have a trustworthy talisman?
LE PASSANT
J’ai l’amour!
THE PASSERBY
I have love!
[11] Rachel à Nephtali (1834)
Text by Emile Deschamps (1791–1871)
Romance biblique
Rachel and Nephtali
1. Quoi, Nephtali, quoi, tu m’aimais?
Ta bouche enfin trahit ta flamme.
Ah! tu devais m’ouvrir ton âme,
Un an plus tôt, ou bien jamais.
1. What, Nephtali, what, you loved me?
At last your lips betray your passion.
Ah, you should have revealed your heart to me
A year ago, or not at all.
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Biblical Romance
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MEYERBEER, G.: Songs (Rotem, Zak)
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Ton frère, hélas! tu vois sa femme,
Il a ma main et j’ai son coeur.
Pitié, pitié, je suis ta soeur.
Alas, you’re looking at your brother’s wife,
He has my hand and I have his heart.
Mercy, mercy, I’m your sister!
2. Sous les palmiers non loin de Tyre
Pourquoi m’as-tu sauvé la vie?
Je n’irais point d’effroi suivie
Entre ses bras rougir, mentir.
2. Why did you save my life
Under the palms just outside Tyre?
I couldn’t go, pursued by fear,
Into his embrace to lie and blush.
J’aurais sans crainte au ciel ravie,
Crié ton nom vers le Seigneur,
Malheur, malheur, hélas, je suis ta soeur.
Overjoyed, I would have cried out
Your name to the Lord in heaven,
Woe, woe, alas, I’m your sister!
3. Le Dieu jaloux a l’oeil sur toi,
C’est au Dieu fort à nous défendre,
Il veut lui seul se faire entendre,
Cache tes pleurs, c’est trop, épargne-moi!
3. Our jealous God has His eye on you,
Almighty God forbids us this,
He only wants you to listen to Him,
Conceal your tears, it’s too much, spare me!
Tes yeux si doux, ta voix si tendre,
O Nephtali, tout me fait peur,
Va-t-en, va-t-en, je suis ta soeur.
Your eyes so charming, your voice so tender,
O Nephtali, it all frightens me,
Go, go, I’m your sister!
[12] La Ballade de la Reine Marguerite de Valois (1829)
Text by Marguerite de Valois, 1540
Ballad
1. Pour être un digne et bon Crétien,
Il faut à Christ être semblable,
Il faut renoncer à tout bien,
À tout honneur qui est damnable;
À la dame belle et jolie,
À plaisir qui la chair émeut,
Laisser honneurs, biens et l’amie.
Ne fait pas ce tout là qui veut,
Non, non, non, non,
Ne fait pas ce tout là qui veut.
1. To be a good and upright Christian,
One must be like Christ,
One must give up every good thing,
Every virtue that is sinful;
All the sweet and pretty damsels,
Pleasures that arouse the flesh,
Give up honors, wealth and lovers.
One can’t do what one would like to,
No, no, no, no,
One can’t do what one would like to.
2. Ses biens aux pauvres faut donner
D’un coeur joyeux et volontaire;
Faut les injures pardonner
Et à ses ennemis bien faire;
S’éjouir en méloncolie
Et tourment dont la chair s’émeut,
Aimer la mort comme la vie!
Ne fait pas ce tout là qui veut, etc.
2. One must give the poor one’s wealth
With a willing and joyous heart;
Forgive insults against one’s person
And do good unto one’s enemies;
Enjoy enticements of the flesh
With melancholy and suffering,
Love death as if it were life!
One can’t do what one would like to, etc.
[13] Sur le balcon (1845)
Text by Amédé Edmond Thierry
On the Balcony
1. Sur le balcon viens, ô ma fiancée,
Le bal riant étourdit la pensée,
Viens, voir la nuit plus belle que la jour,
L’odeur des lys monte avec la rose
Sens tu pas que l’âme repose
Plus loin du bruit et plus près de l’amour.
1. Come onto the balcony, O my beloved,
The noisy ball bewilders the senses,
Come, see, the night is lovelier than the day,
The scent of lilies mingles with that of the rose,
Don’t you feel that the soul is calmer
Further from the noise and closer to love.
2. Regarde au ciel passer belle et sans voile
La blanche lune avec sa cour d’étoiles
Semant la nuit de songes gracieux
Et puis vois-tu cette étoile rêveuse
Qui pas à pas humble et silencieuse
La suit sans cesse en montant vers les cieux.
2. Look, the lovely pale moon with her retinue
Of stars is passing across the unclouded sky,
Sowing the night with delightful dreams;
And then see there, that pensive star
Which little by little, meek and silent,
Ceaselessly follows her as it climbs to heaven.
3. Ô reconnais charmant et doux mystère:
L’amour au ciel comme il est sur la terre,
Ce coeur qui tremble et ta beauté qui luit,
Ton front divin ma noble fiancée
Lève sur moi tandis que ma pensée
De loin sans cesse en t’adorant te suit.
3. Observe, O charming and sweet mystery:
Love in the heavens is like that on earth,
My trembling heart and your glowing beauty,
Your divine face, my noble beloved,
Rises above me while my thought
Ceaselessly follows you from afar in adoration.
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[14] Le baptême (1839)
Text by Maurice de Flassan
The Baptism
1. Sur ce réservoir d’argent,
Où dort l’eau bénite,
Nous exposons cet enfant
Qui pleure et s’agite.
Toi, Seigneur qui descendis
Pour sauver le monde,
Répands l’eau du Paradis
Sur sa tête blonde.
1. Over this silver basin
Filled with consecrated water,
We offer this infant
Who’s crying and fidgeting.
O Lord, Thou who descended
To save the world,
Pour the water of Paradise
On his blond head.
2. Éloigne l’esprit du mal
Qui le trouble encore.
Fais que son front virginal
Contemple l’aurore
Purifié, chaste et beau
Et du saint baptême
Portant l’humide bandeau
Comme un diadème.
2. Banish the spirit of evil
That still troubles him.
Allow his innocent face
To gaze at the dawn
Purified, chaste and sinless,
And wearing the moist headband
Of holy baptism
Like a crown.
[15] La folle de St Joseph (1837)
Text by Adolphe Marquis de Custine
The Mad Woman of Saint Joseph
1. Mes pleurs, mouillez cette pierre,
Coulez, coulez, il viendra,
Et peut-être il se dira:
Elle était là, elle était là!
Ah! mes pleurs, lavez la poussière,
Ah! coulez, coulez sur la pierre,
Qu’il foulera, qu’il foulera,
Coulez! coulez! coulez!
1. Moisten this stone, my tears,
Flow, flow, he will come,
And, perhaps, he’ll say to himself:
“She was here, she was here!”
Ah, my tears, bathe the dust,
Ah, flow, flow over the stone
That he will walk on, that he will walk on,
Flow! Flow! Flow!
2. Fleurs, tombez de ma couronne,
Tombez et sur le gazon,
Tracez le mot de pardon
Avec son nom, avec son nom.
Du cruel qui m’abandonne,
Partez, fleurs de ma couronne,
Vous serez mon dernier don...
Tombez! tombez! tombez!
2. Fall from my garland, flowers,
Fall, and upon the grass
Trace the word “pardon”
Along with his name, with his name.
Farewell, O crown of flowers,
You will be my last gift
For the cruel man who has deserted me...
Fall! Fall! Fall!
3. Sur ce tertre solitaire
Il verra panteler la croix;
Moi dans la maison de bois
Froide et sans voix, froide et sans voix.
Si son pied foule ma terre
Je frémirai, je l’espère,
Mais pour la dernière fois!...
Je frémirai! je frémirai!
3. Upon this lonely mound
He will see my cross sobbing;
And I will be in my wooden box,
Cold and voiceless, cold and voiceless.
If his foot should step upon my grave,
I’ll tremble, waiting for him,
But for the last time!...
I’ll tremble! I’ll tremble!
[16] Chant de mai (1837)
Text by Henri Blaze de Bury
Song of May
1. Connais-tu la chanson
Qu’au printemps m’ont apprise
Les ruisseaux et la brise
Et les fleurs du buisson
Où je me suis assise?
La connais-tu? la connais-tu?
Le soleil jeune et beau
En tressant sa couronne
La dit mieux que personne,
Et le petit oiseau
Dans son lit la fredonne...
1. Do you know the song
That the streams and the breeze
And the flowers in the thicket
Where I was sitting
Taught me in the springtime?
Do you know it? Do you know it?
The sun, young and handsome,
Wearing his gleaming crown
Says it better than anyone,
And the little bird
In its nest chirps it...
2. Comme aussi le lézard,
Couché sur l’herbe ardente,
La dit à chaque plante.
Cimarosa et Mozart,
2. And the lizard, too,
Lying on the warm grass,
Tells it to each plant.
Cimarosa and Mozart,
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MEYERBEER, G.: Songs (Rotem, Zak)
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Et tous ceux que je chante,
N’ont rien fait, mon ami,
D’aussi doux, d’aussi tendre
Et je vais vous l’apprendre
Quand sur le pré fleuri
La lune va descendre...
And all the others whom I sing,
Have not composed, my friend,
Anything as sweet or as tender,
And I’m going to teach it to you
When the moon descends
Over the flowery meadow...
3. Vous la saurez bientôt
Et pour toute la vie,
Si je vous la confie,
Elle n’a qu’un seul mot,
Qu’un son, qu’une harmonie,
Et... ce mot... c’est... c’est amour!...
Les rayons de lumière
Et les fleurs de la terre,
La chantent tout le jour
Dans l’herbe printanière,
La chantent, la chantent amour!
3. You’ll soon know it
And for your whole life long
If I confide it to you;
It has only one word,
A single sound, one harmony,
And... this word... is... love!...
The shining sun
And the flowers of the earth
Sing it all day long
In the spring grass...
They sing, they sing of love!
[17] Nella (1838)
Text by Emile Deschamps
Nella
1. Qu’elle chante sous la brise,
Qu’elle rêve dans l’église,
C’est la perle de Venise,
Pudeur, grâce, tout est là.
C’est la rose sans rivale,
La colombe virginale,
C’est l’étoile matinale,
Mieux encor c’est Nella!
Le plus riche de Venise
Vînt lui dire, l’âme éprise:
“Jeune fille, sois marquise,
Sois ma femme, ma Nella!”
“Non, non, j’aime un page,
Qui me jure mariage,
S’il est pauvre, c’est dommage,
Eh, mais je l’aime, tout est là.
Riche ou pauvre, qu’est-ce là?
Prince ou page, qu’est-ce là?
Oui, je l’aime, tout est là.”
1. Hear her sing on the breeze,
See her daydream in church,
She’s the pearl of Venice,
Shyness, grace, every virtue is hers.
It’s the rose without a rival,
The virginal dove,
It’s the morning star,
Better still, it’s Nella!
The richest youth of Venice, his heart
Enraptured, came to her and said:
“Fair maiden, be my marquise,
Be my wife, O Nella!”
“No, no, I love a page
Who has sworn to marry me;
If he’s poor, that’s too bad,
For I love him, he’s my all.
Rich or poor, what does it matter?
Prince or page, what does it matter?
Yes, I love him, he’s my all.”
2. “Des Madones d’Italie
Quand on est la plus jolie,
Pour un page c’est folie
De garder ces trésors là;
Vois mes bals, mes sérénades,
Ma devise des croisades,
Mes sequins et mes cruzades,
Mon palais et ma villa,
Un seul mot, une promesse
De tes yeux, une caresse;
Et ma gloire et ma richesse
Sont les tiennes, ma Nella.”
“Non, non, j’aime un page,” etc.
2. “When one is fairest
Of all of Italy’s damsels,
It’s foolish to keep
Your treasures for a page;
I give parties, sing serenades,
I have a crest from the crusades,
Gold and silver coins in abundance,
I own a palace and a villa,
A single word, a promise
From your eyes, a caress,
And my glory and my wealth
Will be yours, my Nella.”
“No, no, I love a page,” etc.
[18] Komm, du schönes Fischermädchen (1837)
Text by Heinrich Heine (1797–1856)
Come, You Pretty Fisher Maiden!
1. Du schönes Fischermädchen,
Treibe den Kahn ans Land:
Komm zu mir, setz dich nieder,
Wir kosen Hand in Hand,
Leg an mein Herz dein Köpfchen
Und fürchte dich nicht zu sehr,
Vertraust du dich doch sorglos
Täglich dem wilden Meer.
Mein Herz gleicht ganz dem Meere,
Hat Sturm und Ebb’ und Flut,
Und manche schöne Perle
1. Oh, pretty fisher maiden,
Row your boat to the shore;
Come to me, sit down beside me,
We’ll hold hands and cuddle;
Lay your darling head upon my heart
And don’t be too afraid,
For every day lightheartedly
You entrust yourself to the raging sea.
Just like the sea my heart
Has storms and ebbs and floods,
And many a lovely pearl
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MEYERBEER, G.: Songs (Rotem, Zak)
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In seiner Tiefe ruht.
Komm! Komm!
Du schönes Fischermädchen, komm, komm,
Wir kosen Hand in Hand.
Komm! Komm! Komm!
Rests in its depths.
Come! Come!
Oh, pretty fisher maiden, come, come,
We’ll hold hands and cuddle.
Come! Come! Come!
2. Du schönes Fischermädchen,
Siehst du den Abendstern?
O komm zur stillen Hütte,
Wer liebt, ist einsam gern.
In deine Fesseln lege
Den trotzigen, wilden Sinn,
Sanft wie die Rosenwelle
Lenk ihn zum Frieden hin.
Da draußen auf dem Meere
Ist oft Gefahr und Not,
Senk in mein Herz den Anker
Von deinem Lebensboot.
2. Oh, pretty fisher maiden,
Do you see the evening star?
Ah, come to my quiet cottage,
Those in love seek seclusion.
My defiant, wild spirit
Lies caught in your net,
Guide it to serenity
As gently as the rosy wave,
Danger and distress
Are often out there on the sea;
Cast the anchor of your life’s boat
Into my heart.
Komm! Komm!
Du schönes Fischermädchen, komm, komm,
Wir kosen Hand in Hand.
Komm! Komm! Komm!
Come! Come!
Oh, pretty fisher maiden, come, come,
We’ll hold hands and cuddle.
Come! Come! Come!
[19] Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne (1838)
Text by Heinrich Heine
The Rose, the Lily, the Dove, the Sun
1. Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne,
Die liebt’ ich einst alle in Liebeswonne,
Ich lieb’ sie nicht mehr, ich liebe alleine
Die Kleine, die Feine, die Reine, die Eine,
Sie selber, aller Liebe Wonne
Ist Rose und Lilie und Taube und Sonne.
1. The rose, the lily, the dove, the sun,
I once loved them all with a rapturous love;
I love them no longer, I love only her,
The small one, the fair one, the pure one, the prized one,
She alone, the rapture of all love,
Is rose and lily and dove and sun.
2. Das Klagen, das Sehnen, die Seufzer, die Tränen,
Einst verlacht’ ich sie mit Spotten und Höhnen;
Ich lache nicht mehr, ich sah sie, die Eine,
Die Holde, die Reine, nun seuftz’ ich und weine,
Doch Reiz verleiht ein Blick der Schönen
Dem Klagen, dem Sehnen, den Seufzern, den Tränen.
2. Sorrowing, longing, sighing, weeping,
I once laughed at them with ridicule and scorn;
I laugh no longer, I see her, the prized one,
The gracious one, the pure one – now I sigh and weep...
Yet a glance from that beauty lends charm
To sorrowing, longing, sighing, weeping.
[20] Hör ich das Liedchen klingen (1837)
Text by Heinrich Heine
When I Hear the Sound of the Song
1. Hör’ ich das Liedchen klingen,
Das einst die Liebste sang,
Will mir das Herz zerspringen
Vor wildem Schmerzensdrang.
1. When I hear the sound of the song
That my beloved once sang,
My heart begins to burst
From the cruel agony of grief.
2. Mich treibt ein dunkles Sehnen
Hinauf zur Waldeshöh,
Dort löst sich auf in Tränen
Mein übergroßes Weh.
2. A somber craving drives me
Up to the wooded hilltops,
There my monumental grief
Releases itself in tears.
[21] Suleika (1838)
Text by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832)
Suleika
1. Wie mit innigstem Behagen,
Lied, gewahr’ ich deinen Sinn;
Liebvoll scheinst Du zu sagen
Daß ich ihm zur Seite bin;
Daß er ewig mein gedenket,
Seiner Liebe Seligkeit,
Immerdar der Treuen schenket,
Die ein Leben ihm geweiht.
1. With what inmost joy, O song,
Have I discerned your meaning;
Lovingly you seem to say
That I am at his side;
That he always thinks of me,
And ever gives the rapture of his love
To his faithful darling,
Who devotes her life to him.
2. Ja, mein Herz es ist der Spiegel,
Freund, worin du dich erblickst,
Diese Brust wo Deine Siegel
Kuß auf Kuß hereingedrückt.
2. Yes, O friend, my heart is the mirror
In which you see yourself reflected,
And this the breast on which you pressed
Your seal with endless kisses.
ⓟ 2010 & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd.
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MEYERBEER, G.: Songs (Rotem, Zak)
http://www.naxos.com/catalogue/item.asp?item_code=8.572367
8.572367
Süßes Dichten, laut’re Wahrheit,
Fesselt mich in Sympathie,
Rein verkörpert Liebesklarheit
Im Gewand der Poesie.
Sweet thoughts, unblemished truth,
Shackle me in sympathy,
Love’s bright radiance embodied
In the garb of poetry.
[22] Mina (Lied des venezianischen Gondoliers) (1837)
Text by Michael Beer (1800–1833)
Mina (Song of the Venetian Gondolier)
1. Komm’, Liebchen, komm’!
Die Nacht ist hell’ und frische Lüftchen gaukeln.
Wie möcht’ ich dich auf leiser Well’
Mit schlankem Kahne schaukeln.
1. Come, darling, come!
The night is starry and cool breezes are whispering.
How I’d like to rock you
In my gondola upon the gentle waves.
2. Komm’, Liebchen, komm’!
Uns ruft die Nacht, mein Herz schlägt treu und
ehrlich;
Die Mutter schläft, dein Liebster wacht,
Was wäre da gefährlich?
2. Come, darling, come!
The night is calling us, my heart is beating truly and
sincerely;
Your mother is asleep, your lover is awake,
What danger could there be?
[23] Luft von Morgen (1841)
Text by Albert Knapp (1798–1864)
Morning Breeze
1. Himmelsluft von Morgenlande
Die zu uns herüberweht,
Wo an düsterm Grabesrande
Mancher arme Pilger steht,
Siechthum hat ihn fast verzehret,
Sünde sein Gebein verheeret,
Ach! wehe lieblich mild und rein
Kühlung in sein Herz hinein,
Himmelsluft!
1. Heaven’s morning breeze
Blows this way to us,
Where many a poor pilgrim stands
With one foot in the grave;
Chronic illness has all but consumed him,
Sin has ravaged his bones,
Ah, blow welcome, gentle, comforting
Coolness into his heart,
Heaven’s breeze!
2. Daß der Kranke sich erhebe,
Daß er von dem Jammer frei,
Grünend stehe, wonnig lebe,
Eine Blume Gottes sei,
Fahre fort ihn anzuhauchen
Ihn in Balsam einzutauchen,
Ach! ohne dich, o Lebensluft,
Sinkt er welkend in die Gruft,
Himmelsluft!
2. That the invalid may rise to his feet,
That he, freed of disease,
May stand healthy and live happy,
There exists a divine flower;
Continue to breathe upon him,
To immerse him in balsam,
Ah, without you, O breeze of life,
He’d fall withered into the grave,
Heaven’s breeze!
3. Himmelsluft von Morgenlande,
Ich bin auch ein krankes Herz!
Weh’ an meines Grabes Rande
Mir hinweg der Sünde Schmerz.
Grünen möcht’ ich noch auf Erden,
Meinem Gott zur Freude werden...
Ach! Du die Alles heilen kann,
Weh’ o Himmelsluft mich an,
Himmelsluft!
3. O heaven’s morning breeze,
I, too, am sick at heart!
I’m at death’s door – blow
The pain of sin away from me.
I’d like again to bloom on earth,
To become a joy to my God...
Oh, You who can heal everything,
Blow the heavenly breeze my way,
Heaven’s breeze!
[24] Der Garten des Herzens (1839)
Text by Wilhelm Müller (1794–1827)
The Garden of the Heart
1. In meines Herzens Mitte blüht ein Gärtchen,
Verschlossen ist es durch ein kleines Pförtchen,
Zu dem den Schlüssel führt mein liebes Mädchen.
1. A little garden blooms in the center of my heart,
Access to it is through a little gate
To which my sweetheart has the key.
2. Es ist April, komm, wolle dich nicht schämen
Und pflücke dir heraus die liebsten Blumen,
Sie drängen sich entgegen deinen Händen.
2. It’s April, come, don’t be embarrassed,
Pick the prettiest flowers for yourself,
They’re straining towards your hands.
3. Je mehr du pflückst, je mehr sie wieder sprossen,
Doch willst du unberührt sie blühen lassen,
So werden sie vor ihrer Zeit vertrocknen.
3. The more you pick, the more they sprout up again;
But if you let them bloom untouched
They’ll wither before their time.
ⓟ 2010 & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd.
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MEYERBEER, G.: Songs (Rotem, Zak)
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8.572367
[25] Scirocco (1837)
Text by Michael Beer
Scirocco
Armes Kind,
Südlich weht der Wind.
Und dein Auge steht in Tränen,
Und dein Herz ist voller Sehnen,
Und die matten Glieder
Zieht’s zum Schlummer nieder.
Armes Kind,
Südlich weht der Wind.
Amor, komm geschwind.
Poor child,
The wind is blowing from the south.
And your eyes are filled with tears,
And your heart is full of desire,
And your weary limbs
Are yearning for slumber.
Poor child,
The wind is blowing from the south.
O Love, come quickly.
[26] Frühling im Versteck (1847)
Text by August Ludwig Lua
Springtime in Hiding
1. Winter unter deiner Decke
Sitzet heimlich im Verstecke
Dir ein Jüngling wundersam.
Suchen möchten wir ihn gerne
Hielt’st du ihn nur nicht so ferne
Den die Zeit so lang uns nahm,
Diesen Jüngling wundersam.
1. Winter, under your blanket
You keep in hiding
A wondrous youth.
We’d like to look for him
If only you didn’t keep him so far away,
He whom time took away from us so long ago,
This wondrous youth.
2. Doch du kannst nicht immer halten
Mit der Strenge Kraftgewalten
Diesen schönen Blüthensohn.
Jedes Fessel muß zerspringen
Wenn er jubelnd will erschwingen
Sich auf seinen lichten Thron,
Dieser schöne Blüthensohn.
2. But even with your mighty harshness
You cannot lock up forever
This handsome son of the flowers.
Every chain will be forced to break
When joyously he decides
To mount his shining throne,
This handsome son of the flowers.
3. Bald wird auf die Freiheit Füssen
Er die Erde hold begrüßen
Und in Wonnefülle blühn
Suchen wird er uns dann Alle
Und mit hellem Jubelschalle
Locken in sein junges Grün
Und in Wonnefülle blühn.
3. On the feet of freedom
He’ll soon gently greet the earth,
And then he’ll look for all of us
To bloom in the fullness of joy,
And with the bright sound of jubilation
He’ll summon his fresh greenery,
To bloom in the fullness of joy.
© Richard Arsenty and Robert Ignatius Letellier
ⓟ 2010 & © 2011 Naxos Rights International Ltd.
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