Texts & Translations
Cinque…dieci..venti from Le nozze di Figaro
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is one of the most well known composers ever. A child prodigy, Mozart began composing at the age of 5 and wrote over 600 works. Le nozze di Figaro, one of his most famous operas, follows Figaro and Susanna, who are both servents to the Count and Countess Almaviva, and there tumultouous journey to the altar. They hatch a scheme to foil the Count’s attempts of seducing Susanna before her wedding day. This duet begins the opera as Figaro is measuring the pair’s new room for a bed. Susanna enters excited about the veil she made for the occasion herself. Then, the two sing of their excitement to be married.
Figaro:
Cinque… dieci.... venti… trenta… trentasei…quarantatre
Susanna:
Ora sì ch’io son contenta; sembra fatto inver per me. Guarda un po’, mio caro Figaro, guarda adesso il mio cappello.
Figaro:
Sì mio core, or è più bello, sembra fatto inver per te.
Tutti:
Ah, il mattino alle nozze vicino quanto è dolce al mio/tuo tenero sposo questo bel cappellino vezzoso che Susanna ella stessa si fe’.
Sieben frühe Lieder
Alban Berg (1885-1935)
Figaro:
Five…ten…twenty…thirty… Thirty-six…forty-three
Susanna:
How happy I am now; you’d think it had been made for me. Look a moment, dearest Figaro. look here at my cap!
Figaro:
Yes, dear heart, it’s better that way. You’d think it had been made for you.
Together:
Ah, with our wedding day so near how pleasing to my/your gentle husband is this charming little cap which Susanna made herself.
Alban Berg was a highly influential composer and a central figure in the Second Viennese School. This group led by Arnold Schoenberg and including his students Alban Berg and Anton Webern redefined the direction of Western classical music in the early twentieth century. They moved away from traditional tonal harmony, instead exploring atonality, and eventually developed the revolutionary twelve-tone method, a system that organizes all twelve pitches of the chromatic scale in a structured, non-hierarchical way. Berg’s Sieben frühe lieder, or seven early songs, bridge the gap between late Romantic era and the emerging twelve-tone techniques. These songs use lots of natural imagery and text painting where the piano portrays the sung words through its motion.
Nacht
Dämmern Wolken über Nacht und Tal. Nebel schweben. Wasser rauschen sacht. Nun entschleiert sich’s mit einem Mal. O gib acht! gib acht!
Weites Wunderland ist aufgetan, Silbern ragen Berge traumhaft groß, Stille Pfade silberlicht talan Aus verborg’nem Schoß.
Und die hehre Welt so traumhaft rein. Stummer Buchenbaum am Wege steht Schattenschwarz – ein Hauch vom fernen Hain
Einsam leise weht.
Und aus tiefen Grundes Düsterheit
Blinken Lichter auf in stummer Nacht. Trinke Seele! trinke Einsamkeit! O gib acht! gib acht!
Schilflied
Auf geheimem Waldespfade
Schleich’ ich gern im Abendschein
An das öde Schilfgestade, Mädchen, und gedenke dein!
Wenn sich dann der Busch verdüstert, Rauscht das Rohr geheimnisvoll, Und es klaget und es flüstert, Daß ich weinen, weinen soll.
Und ich mein’, ich höre wehen Leise deiner Stimme Klang, Und im Weiher untergehen Deinen lieblichen Gesang.
Die Nachtigall
Das macht, es hat die Nachtigall
Die ganze Nacht gesungen; Da sind von ihrem süssen Schall,
Night
Clouds loom over night and valley. Mists hover, waters softly murmur. Now at once all is unveiled. O take heed! take heed!
A vast wonderland opens up, Silvery mountains soar dreamlike tall, Silent paths climb silver-bright valleywards From a hidden womb.
And the glorious world so dreamlike pure. A silent beech-tree stands by the wayside Shadow-black – a breath from the distant grove
Blows solitary soft.
And from the deep valley’s gloom Lights twinkle in the silent night. Drink soul! drink solitude!
O take heed! take heed!
Reed Song
Along a secret forest path I love to steal in the evening light To the desolate reedy shore And think, my girl, of you!
When the bushes then grow dark, The reeds pipe mysteriously, Lamenting and whispering, That I must weep, must weep.
And I seem to hear the soft sound Of your voice, And your lovely singing Drowning in the pond.
The Nightingale
It is because the nightingale Has sung throughout the night, That from the sweet sound
Da sind in Hall und Widerhall Die Rosen aufgesprungen.
Sie war doch sonst ein wildes Blut, Nun geht sie tief in Sinnen; Trägt in der Hand den Sommerhut Und duldet still der Sonne Glut Und weiß nicht, was beginnen.
Das macht, es hat die Nachtigall
Die ganze Nacht gesungen; Da sind von ihrem süssen Schall, Da sind in Hall und Widerhall Die Rosen aufgesprungen.
Traumgekrönt
Das war der Tag der weißen Chrysanthemen, mir bangte fast vor seiner Pracht … Und dann, dann kamst du mir die Seele nehmen tief in der Nacht.
Mir war so bang, und du kamst lieb und leise,
ich hatte grad im Traum an dich gedacht. Du kamst, und leis wie eine Märchenweise erklang die Nacht …
Im Zimmer
Herbstsonnenschein.
Der liebe Abend blickt so still herein. Ein Feuerlein rot Knistert im Ofenloch und loht.
So! – Mein Kopf auf deinen Knie’n. –So ist mir gut; Wenn mein Auge so in deinem ruht. Wie leise die Minuten ziehn! …
Liebesode
Im Arm der Liebe schliefen wir selig ein.
Of her echoing song
The roses have sprung up.
She was once a wild creature, Now she wanders deep in thought; In her hand a summer hat, Bearing in silence the sun’s heat, Not knowing what to do.
It is because the nightingale Has sung throughout the night, That from the sweet sound Of her echoing song
The roses have sprung up.
Crowned with Dreams
That was the day of the white chrysanthemums
Its brilliance almost frightened me ... And then, then you came to take my soul at the dead of night.
I was so frightened, and you came sweetly and gently, I had been thinking of you in my dreams. You came, and soft as a fairy tune the night rang out …
In the room
Autumn sunshine.
The lovely evening looks in so silently. A little red fire Crackles and blazes in the hearth.
Like this! – With my head on your knees. –Like this I am content; When my eyes rest in yours like this. How gently the minutes pass!
Ode to love
In love’s arms we fell blissfully asleep.
Am offnen Fenster lauschte der Sommerwind, und unsrer Atemzüge Frieden trug er hinaus in die helle Mondnacht. –
Und aus dem Garten tastete zagend sich
Ein Rosenduft an unserer Liebe Bett Und gab uns wundervolle Träume, Träume des Rausches – so reich an Sehnsucht!
Sommertage
Nun ziehen Tage über die Welt, gesandt aus blauer Ewigkeit, im Sommerwind verweht die Zeit. Nun windet nächtens der Herr Sternenkränze mit seliger Hand über Wander- und Wunderland.
O Herz, was kann in diesen Tagen dein hellstes Wanderlied denn sagen von deiner tiefen, tiefen Lust: Im Wiesensang verstummt die Brust, nun schweigt das Wort, wo Bild um Bild zu dir zieht und dich ganz erfüllt.
The summer wind listened at the open window, and carried the peace of our breathing out into the moon-bright night. –
And from the garden a scent of roses came timidly to our bed of love and gave us wonderful dreams, ecstatic dreams – so rich in longing!
Summer days
Days, sent from blue eternity, journey now across the world, time drifts away in the summer wind. The Lord at night now garlands star-chains with his blessed hand across lands of wandering and wonder.
In these days, O heart, what can your brightest travel-song say of your deep, deep joy? The heart falls silent in the meadows’ song, words now cease when image after image comes to you and fills you utterly.
Translations by Richard Stokes
Eccomi in lieta vesta…O quante volte from I Capuleti e i Montecchi
Vincenzo Bellini (1801-1835)
Vincenzo Bellini was one of the primary bel canto composers alongside Rossini and Donizetti. Bel canto or “beautiful singing” is an operatic and vocal technique that prioritizes emotional experession over raw volume. It also emphasizes vocal agility, breath control, and smooth phrases. I Capuletti e i Montecci, an adaptation of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, was written in 1860 took Bellini about six weeks to compose for the premiere and ended up recycling a lot of the music from an earlier unsuccessful opera. In this scene, Giulietta (Juliet) is dressed for her wedding to Tebaldo (Tybalt) and she is longing for her true love, Romeo, whom she has cried out for many times.
Eccomi in lieta vesta... Eccomi adorna come vittima all'ara. Oh! Almen potessi qual vittima cader dell'ara al piede!
Here I am in a cheerful attire… Here I am adorned… like a victim on the altar. Oh! If only I could as if wounded fall from the altar to the floor!
O nuziali tede, abborrite così fatali, siate, ah, siate per me faci ferali. Ardo... una vampa, una foco tutta mi strugge.
Un refrigerio ai venti io chiedo invano. Ove sei tu, Romeo? In qual terra t'aggiri? Dove, inviarti, dove i miei sospiri?
Oh, quante volte, oh quante ti chiedo al ciel piangendo! Con quale ardor t'attendo, e inganno il mio desir! Raggio del tuo sembiante ah! parmi il brillar del giorno: ah! l'aura che spira intorno mi sembra un tuo sospir.
Ricky Ian Gordon (b. 1956)
Oh wedding candles, you abhor me, so fatal you are, ah! You are the candles on my deathbed. I burn… a flame, a fire torments me.
I ask for a cool breeze, but in vain. Where are you, Romeo? In which land? Where, where should I send you my sighs?
Oh! How many times, oh, how many, did I ask the heavens for you, crying! With such fervour I wait for you, but my desire is in vain! The light of your presence shines for me like daylight: ah! The air that dances around me reminds me of your breath.
Ricky Ian Gordon is a contemporary composer and teacher based in New York. His music often bridges the worlds of art song and musical theater, blending the expressive intimacy of classical song with the dramatic qualities of theater. Gordon’s compositional style is flexible and fluid, frequently incorporating written rubato that allows performers a high level of expressive freedom. Will There Really Be a Morning?, set to poetry by Emily Dickinson, is one of Gordon’s more frequently performed songs. The text reflects Dickinson’s characteristic sense of wonder, posing questions about life, death, and the possibility of an afterlife. In contrast, An Old Fashioned Song, set to poetry by John Hollander, carries a nostalgic tone. The poem evokes the image of a person reminiscing about memories of walking through the woods with a loved one. The Red Dress, set to a poem by Dorothy Parker, portrays a young girl imagining her idealized vision of love; when she grows older, however, she finds that she possesses the red dress but none of the romance she once envisioned.
Will There Really Be a Morning
Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?
Has it feet like Water lilies? Has it feathers like a Bird? Is it brought from famous countries Of which I have never heard?
Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor! Oh some Wise Man from the skies!
Please to tell a little Pilgrim Where the place called “Morning” lies!
An Old Fashioned Song
No more walks in the wood: The trees have all been cut Down, and where once they stood Not even a wagon rut Appears along the path Low brush is taking over.
No more walks in the wood; This is the aftermath Of afternoons in the clover Fields where we once made love Then wandered home together Where the trees arched above, Where we made our own weather When branches were the sky. Now they are gone for good, And you, for ill, and I Am only a passer-by.
We and the trees and the way Back from the fields of play Lasted as long as we could. No more walks in the wood.
The Red Dress
I always saw, I always said If I were grown and free, I’d have a gown of reddest red As fine as you could see,
To wear out walking, sleek and slow, Upon a Summer day, And there’d be one to see me so And flip the world away.
And he would be a gallant one, With stars behind his eyes, And hair like metal in the sun, And lips too warm for lies.
I always saw us, gay and good, High honored in the town. Now I am grown to womanhood… I have the silly gown.
Notre amour
Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924)
Notre amour is a radiant example of French mélodie that celebrates love as light, tender, sacred, and boundless. It portrays love as both pure and mysterious, while the fluid piano accompaniment beautifully reflects these qualities. The steady triplet motion flows continuously, creating a sense of momentum that gradually builds toward the piece’s conclusion. The vocal line floats effortlessly above the accompaniment, reinforcing the sense of ease and serenity associated with love. Subtle dynamic shifts and harmonic color changes further enhance the emotional depth, allowing the music to shimmer with warmth and intimacy.
Notre amour est chose légère,
Comme les parfums que le vent
Prend aux cimes de la fougère
Pour qu’on les respire en rêvant.
– Notre amour est chose légère.
Notre amour est chose charmante, Comme les chansons du matin
Où nul regret ne se lamente,
Où vibre un espoir incertain.
– Notre amour est chose charmante.
Notre amour est chose sacrée,
Comme le mystère des bois
Où tressaille une âme ignorée,
Où les silences ont des voix.
– Notre amour est chose sacrée.
Notre amour est chose infinie, Comme les chemins des couchants
Où la mer, aux cieux réunie, S’endort sous les soleils penchants.
Notre amour est chose éternelle, Comme tout ce qu’un Dieu vainqueur
A touché du feu de son aile, Comme tout ce qui vient du cœur,
– Notre amour est chose éternelle.
Our love is light and gentle, Like fragrance fetched by the breeze From the tips of ferns
For us to breathe while dreaming.
– Our love is light and gentle. Our love is enchanting, Like morning songs, Where no regret is voiced, Quivering with uncertain hopes.
– Our love is enchanting.
Our love is sacred, Like woodland mysteries, Where an unknown soul throbs And silences are eloquent.
– Our love is sacred.
Our love is infinite Like sunset paths, Where the sea, joined with the skies, Falls asleep beneath slanting suns.
Our love is eternal, Like all that a victorious God Has brushed with his fiery wing, Like all that comes from the heart,
– Our love is eternal.
Translation by Richard Stokes
Tendrement
Erik Satie (1866-1925)
Tendrement, composed by Erik Satie in 1902, is a waltz and cabaret-style French melodie. Satie was a modernist composer with a love of composing ironic music to comment on societal tendencies. Tendrement shows the composer’s stylistic versatility as it leans toward the more popular style of the age. The song’s waltz and cabaret style tells the story of someone’s tender love for another they admire. Satie, as a person, was very strange. He is reported to have only eaten white foods and always carried around a hammer. He also created his own religion, named The Metropolitan Church of the Art of Jesus the Conductor. On his deathbed, Satie regarded Tendrement as one of the nice songs that he had written.
D'un amour tendre et pur afin qu'il vous souvienne, Voici mon coeur, mon coeur tremblant, Mon pauvre coeur d'enfant Et voici, pâle fleur que vous fites éclore, Mon âme qui ce meurt de vous Et de vos yeux si doux.
Mon âme est la chapelle, Où la nuit et le jour
Devant votre grâce immortelle, Prie à deux genoux mon fidèle amour.
Dans l'ombre et le mystère
Chante amoureusement
Un douce prière, Païenne si légère, C'est votre nom charmant.
Des roses sont écloses Au jardin de mon cœur, Ces roses d'amour sont moins roses Que vos adorables lèvres en fleur.
De vos main si cruelles Et dont je suis jaloux, Effeuilles les plus belles, Vous pouvez les cueillir, Le jardin est à vous.
With a tender, pure love, so that you will recall it, here is my heart, my trembling heart, my poor childish heart. Here, too, pale flower that you have made to bloom, is my soul that dies for you and your sweet eyes.
My soul is the chapel Where, night and day, my faithful love goes down on both knees to pray before your immortal grace.
In shadow and mystery, a sweet, slight pagan prayer sings lovingly. 'Tis your charming name.
Roses are in bloom in the garden of my heart. These roses of love are paler than your adorable flowered lips.
With your cruel, cruel hands, of which I am so jealous, strip the leaves from the most beautiful of them.
You may pick them. The garden is yours.
Ouvre ton coeur
Georges Bizet (1838-1875)
Georges Bizet was a French Romantic era composer who is most commonly known for his opera Carmen. In his short lifetime, Bizet wrote many different works, including about 30 operas (most unfinished and unpublished), 20 orchestral works, many chamber pieces, and about 70 melodies, or French art songs. Ouvre ton coeur (1860) showcases Bizet’s interest in the Spanish bolero rhythms that are later found in Carmen. The song is youthful and playful, and tells the story of someone pleading with their lover to open their heart to them.
La marguerite a fermé sa corolle, L'ombre a fermé les yeux du jour. Belle, me tiendras-tu parole?
Ouvre ton coeur à mon amour.
Ouvre ton coeur, ô jeune ange, à ma flamme, Qu'un rêve charme ton sommeil. Je veux reprendre mon âme, Comme une fleur s'ouvre au soleil!
The daisy has closed its petals, The shadow has closed its eyes for the day. Beauty, will you speak with me?
Open your heart to my love.
Open your heart, o young angel, to my flame So that a dream may enchant your sleep. I wish to reclaim my soul, As a flower turns to the sun!