The Hilliard Ensemble - Liedteksten 18.02.12 by Muziekcentrum De Bijloke

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18.02.2012 | 20:00 | KRAAKHUIS

the hilliard ensemble liedteksten

Eustache de Monte Regali Chiare, fresche et dolci acque, ove le belle membra pose colei che sola a me par donna; gentil ramo ove piacque (con sospir’ mi rimembra) a lei di fare al bel fiancho colonna; herba et fior’ che la gonna leggiadra ricoverse co l’angelico seno; aere sacro, sereno, ove Amor co’ begli occhi il cor m’aperse: date udïenza insieme a le dolenti mie parole extreme.

Clear, sweet fresh water where she, the only one who seemed woman to me, rested her beautiful limbs: gentle branch where it pleased her (with sighs, I remember it) to make a pillar for her lovely flank: grass and flowers which her dress lightly covered, as it did the angelic breast: serene, and sacred air, where Love pierced my heart with eyes of beauty: listen together to my last sad words.

S’egli è pur mio destino e ‘l cielo in ciò s’adopra, ch’Amor quest’occhi lagrimando chiuda, qualche gratia il meschino corpo fra voi ricopra, et torni l’alma al proprio albergo ignuda. La morte fia men cruda se questa spene porto a quel dubbioso passo: ché lo spirito lasso non poria mai in piú riposato porto né in piú tranquilla fossa fuggir la carne travagliata et l’ossa.

If it is my destiny and heaven works towards this, that Love should close these weeping eyes, let some grace bury my poor body amongst you, and the soul return naked to its place. Death would be less cruel if I could bear this hope to the uncertain crossing: since the weary spirit could never in a more gentle harbour, or in a quieter grave, leave behind its troubled flesh and bone.

Jacopo da Bologna Non al suo amante piú Dïana piacque, quando per tal ventura tutta ignuda la vide in mezzo de le gelide acque,

Diana was not more pleasing to her lover, when by chance he saw her all naked in the midst of icy waters,

ch’a me la pastorella alpestra et cruda posta a bagnar un leggiadretto velo, ch’a l’aura il vago et biondo capel chiuda,

than, to me, the fresh mountain shepherdess, set there to wash a graceful veil, that ties her vagrant blonde hair from the breeze,

tal che mi fece, or quand’egli arde ‘l cielo,

so that she makes me, now that the heavens burn,

tremble, wholly, with the chill of love.

tutto tremar d’un amoroso gielo. Jacques Arcadelt Solo et pensoso i piú deserti campi

Alone and thoughtful, through the most desolate fields, I go measuring out slow, hesitant paces, and keep my eyes intent on fleeing any place where human footsteps mark the sand.

vo mesurando a passi tardi et lenti, et gli occhi porto per fuggire intenti ove vestigio human l’arena stampi. Altro schermo non trovo che mi scampi dal manifesto accorger de le genti, perché negli atti d’alegrezza spenti di fuor si legge com’io dentro avampi:

I find no other defence to protect me from other people’s open notice, since in my aspect, whose joy is quenched, they see from outside how I flame within.

sí ch’io mi credo omai che monti et piagge et fiumi et selve sappian di che tempre sia la mia vita, ch’è celata altrui.

So now I believe that mountains and riverbanks and rivers and forests know the quality of my life, hidden from others.

Ma pur sí aspre vie né sí selvagge cercar non so ch’Amor non venga sempre ragionando con meco, et io co llui. --------------------L’aere gravato, et l’importuna nebbia compressa intorno da rabbiosi vènti tosto conven che si converta in pioggia; et già son quasi di cristallo i fiumi, e’n vece de l’erbetta per le valli non se ved’altro che pruine et ghiaccio. ---------------------------Tutto ‘l dí piango ; et poi la notte, quando prendon riposo I miseri mortali, trovomi in pianto, et raddoppiansi I mali: cosí spendo ‘l mio tempo lagrimando.

Yet I find there is no path so wild or harsh that love will not always come there speaking with me, and I with him. ----------------------------The heavy air, and the oppressive cloud, compressed on all sides by the raging winds, will quickly be converted into rain: and already part-crystal are the rivers, and where there was grass in the valleys there’s nothing to be seen but frost and ice. ----------------------------All day I weep: and then in the night when wretched mortals take their rest, I find myself weeping, redoubling my ills: so I spend the time that’s mine in tears.

In tristo humor vo li occhi comsumando, e ‘l cor in doglia ; et son fra li animali l’ultimo, sí che li amorosi strali mi tengon ad ogni or di pace in bando.

My eyes are drowned in sad moisture, the heart with pain: and I am the worst of creatures, the arrows of love pierce me so all over, now that peace is exiled.

Lasso, che pur da l’un a l’altro sole,

Alas, with one sun following on another,

et da l’una ombra a l’altra, ò già ‘l piú corso di questa morte, che si chiama vita.

one shadow after another, I’ve already passed the greater part of this death, that they call life.

Piú l’altrui fallo che ‘l mi’ mal mi dole:

Another’s failing grieves me more than my own: that living Pity, and solace of my faith, sees the fire burning, and will not help me.

ché Pietà viva, e ‘l moi fido soccorso, vèdem’ arder nel foco, et non m’aita. Guillaume Dufay Vergene bella, che di sol vestita, coronata di stelle, al sommo Sole piacesti sí, che ‘n te Sua luce ascose, amor mi spinge a dir di te parole: ma non so ‘ncominciar senza tu’ aita, et di Colui ch’amando in te si pose. Invoco lei che ben sempre rispose, chi la chiamò con fede: Vergine, s’a mercede miseria extrema de l’humane cose già mai ti volse, al mio prego t’inchina,

Lovely Virgin, who, clothed in glory, crowned with stars, so pleased the high Sun, that he hid his light in you, love urges me to speak of you: but I cannot begin without your help, and His, who lovingly was set in you. I call on her who always replies truly to those who call to her with faith: Virgin, if the final misery of human life can forever turn to you for mercy, bow down to hear my prayer, and help me in this, my war, though I am earth, and you the queen of heaven.

soccorri a la mia guerra, bench’i’ sia terra, et tu del ciel regina. Cipriano de Rore Mia benigna fortuna e ‘l viver lieto, i chiari giorni et le tranquille notti e i soavi sospiri e ‘l dolce stile che solea resonare in versi e ‘n rime, vòlti subitamente in doglia e ‘n pianto, odiar vita mi fanno, et bramar morte.

My kindly fate, and a life made happy, the clear days, and the tranquil nights, the gentle sighs, and the sweet style that alone sounded in my verse and rhyme, suddenly changed to grief and weeping, making me hate my life, and long for death.

Crudel, acerba, inexorabil Morte, cagion mi dài di mai non esser lieto, ma di menar tutta mia vita in pianto, e i giorni oscuri et le dogliose notti. I mei gravi sospir’ non vanno in rime, e ‘l mio duro martir vince ogni stile.

Cruel, bitter, and inexorable Death, you give me reason never to be happy, but to live my life instead with weeping, darkened days, and the saddened nights. My heavy sighs will not go into rhyme, and my harsh pain defeats every style.

Giaches de Wert O cameretta che già fosti un porto a le gravi tempeste mie diürne, fonte se’ or di lagrime nocturne, che ‘l dí celate per vergogna porto.

O little room that was once a refuge from those grave diurnal storms of mine, you are a fountain now of nocturnal tears which I carry hidden by day from shame.

O letticciuol che requie eri et conforto in tanti affanni, di che dogliose urne ti bagna Amor, con quelle mani eburne, solo ver ‘me crudeli a sí gran torto!

O little couch that was rest and comfort in so many torments, from what sad urns does Love bathe you, with those ivory hands so wrongly cruel to me alone!

Né pur il mio secreto e ‘l mio riposo fuggo, ma piú me stesso e ‘l mio pensero, che, seguendol, talor levommi a volo;

I do not flee from privacy and rest as much as from my self and from my thoughts, which lifted me in flight when I followed them:

e ‘l vulgo a me nemico et odïoso (ch ‘l pensò mai?) per mio refugio chero: tal paura ò di ritrovarmi solo.

and I yearn for the hostile and odious crowd (who would ever have thought it?) as a refuge: I have such fear of finding myself alone again.

Fabio Vacchi I MAGGIO DELLE RAGAZZE

MAGGIO OF THE YOUNG GIRLS

Ecco il ridente maggio Ecco quel nobil mese Che viene a dare imprese Ai nostri cuori.

Behold laughing May Behold that noble month, which comes, bringing daring to our hearts.

L’è carico di fiori Di rose e di viole, risplende come il sole ogni riviera.

And laden with flowers, with roses and with violets, every riverbank shines forth like the sun

Eccoci tutti quanti col bel maggio fiorito che a noi fa dolce invito a far ritorno.

Here we are all together With the lovely flowering May, which for us is a sweet call, to return to once more.

II ALLA CAMPAGNOLA

COUNTRY STYLE

Brunetta brunettella amore arma gentile Ma comu te mere stu e stu tuo ricamari E stu ricamari Ma quandu te ment’a sta a sta scal’a cusiri A sta scal’a cusiri

Brunette, little brunette Love, gentle soul, How becoming to you Is your embroidering When you sit on these steps, sewing.

III SURFARARA

IN THE SULPHUR MINERS’ STYLE

Mi scuordu, mi scuordà, scurdatu sugnu, mi scuordu di la stessa vita mia. Mi scurdavu lu bbeni (e) di ma mamma, era cchiù dduci, cchiù mègliu di tia. Mi scurdavu lu bbeni (e) di ma patri, passa lu mari tri bboti pi mmia. Mi scurdavu l’amici poi a me frati, di li santi mi scuordu e no di tia.

I forget, I have forgotten, I am forgotten, I have forgotten my own life I have forgotten the goodness of my mother, she was sweeter, even better than you. I have forgotten the goodness of my father, Who crossed the ocean three times for me. I have forgotten my friends and my brothers I forget the saints, but not you.

IV IL GLICINE

WISTERIA

Come grappoli di glicine bianco Danziamo al vento Per lo spazio di un giorno.

Like clusters of white wisteria, we dance to thè wind for the space of a day.

V U PISARI

THRESHING SONG

Assira catiuscia lu tu zietu, la facci mi parivi de malatu (a), (a) Si ti pigli a cchistu pi marietu, a stari cu ddu miètici a lu latu (a). E a s’anidduzzu ca ti ara ssu itu, un ghiornu ti Fa bbidiri mpignatu (a)

Yesterday I met your fiancé He had the face of an invalid If you take this guy for a husband, You’ll need to have two doctors standing by. And that little ring that adorns your finger Will one day have to be pawned.

VI LA CARTOMANTE

THE FORTUNETELLER

Marinaio fenicio annegato Belladonna ed impiccato Vedo un fiume che trasuda olio e catrame Una donna violentata d’adulterio accusata Verrà a morte condannata. E poi uomini, vedo uomini

The drowned Phoenician Sailor Belladonna - the Hanged Man I see a river oozing oil and tar. A raped woman accused of adultery will be sentenced to death. And then men, I see men -

their nerves shaken, their ideals gone who have no belief in what they do and look for water in exhausted wells.

Dai nervi scossi e gli ideali falliti Che non credono in quello che fanno E cercano acqua in pozzi esauriti Il Cor Tristo (Roger Marsh)

I - Il Cor Tristo S’ïo avessi le rime aspre e chiocce, come si converrebbe al tristo buco sovra ’l qual pontan tutte l’altre rocce, io premerei di mio concetto il suco più pienamente; ma perch’io non l’abbo, non sanza tema a dicer mi conduco. …………………………………………….. Oh sovra tutte mal creata plebe che stai nel loco onde parlare è duro, mei foste state qui pecore o zebe! Come noi fummo giù nel pozzo scuro sotto i piè del gigante assai più bassi, e io mirava ancora a l’alto muro, dicere udi’mi: “Guarda come passi: va sì che tu non calchi con le piante le teste de’ fratei miseri lassi”. Per ch’io mi volsi, e vidimi davante e sotto i piedi un lago che per gelo avea di vetro e non d’acqua sembiante. ……………………………………………… E come a gracidar si sta la rana col muso fuor de l’acqua, quando sogna di spigolar sovente la villana; livide, insin là dove appar vergogna eran l’ombre dolenti ne la ghiaccia, mettendo i denti in nota di cicogna.

da bocca il freddo, e da li occhi il cor tristo tra lor testimonianza si procaccia.

If I had harsh and raucous rhymes, such as would befit the dismal hole on which thrust down all the other rocks, I would press out the juice of my conception more fully; but since I have them not, it’s not without fear I bring myself to speak. …………………………………………….. O misbegotten crowd above all others, that are in the place whereof to speak is hard, better had you been here sheep or goats! When we were down in the dark abyss beneath the feet of the giant, but far lower, and I was gazing still at the high wall, I heard said to me, “Beware how you pass; take care you do not trample with your feet the heads of the wretched weary brethren.” At which I turned, and saw before me, and under my feet, a lake which through frost appeared like glass, not water. ……………………………………. And as the croaking frog sits with its nose out of the water, at evening when the peasant girl dreams of gleaning; so, livid in their faces where shame appears, were the suffering shades within the ice, chattering their teeth like the notes of the stork. Each kept his face turned downward; from the mouth the cold, and from the eyes the misery of the heart bearing witness among them.

Quand’io m’ebbi dintorno alquanto visto, volsimi a’ piedi, e vidi due sì stretti, che ’l pel del capo avieno insieme misto.

When I had looked round awhile, I turned to my feet, and saw two so close that the hair of their heads was twined toge-

Ognuna in giù tenea volta la faccia;

ther. “Tell me, you who press together your breasts,” said I, “who are you?” And they bent their necks, and when they had raised their faces to me, their eyes, which before were moist only within, gushed up through the lids, and the frost bound the tears between and locked them up again.

“Ditemi, voi che sì strignete i petti”, diss’io, “chi siete?”. E quei piegaro i colli; e poi ch’ebber li visi a me eretti, li occhi lor, ch’eran pria pur dentro molli, gocciar su per le labbra, e ’l gelo strinse le lagrime tra essi e riserrolli. Bernardo Pisano Or vedi, Amor, che giovenetta donna tuo regno sprezza, et del mio mal non cura,

Now you see, Love, that this young lady scorns your rule, and cares nothing for my hurt, and feels safe between two of her enemies.

et tra duo ta’ nemici è sí secura.

si siede, et scalza, in mezzo i fiori et l’erba, ver’ me spietata, e ‘n contra te superba.

You are armed, and she in loose hair and gown sits barefoot amongst the flowers and grass, pitiless towards me, and proud towards you.

I’ son pregion; ma se pietà anchor serba l’arco tuo saldo, et qualchuna saetta, fa di te et di me, signor, vendetta. ------------------------------Nova angeletta sovra l’ale accorta scese dal cielo in su la fresca riva, là ‘nd’io passava sol per mio destino.

I’m imprisoned: but if there’s mercy still, raise your bow, and with a few arrows take vengeance, my lord, for me and you. ------------------------------A new young angel carried by her wings descended from the sky to the green bank, there where I passed, alone, to my destiny,

Poi che senza compagna et senza scorta mi vide, un laccio che di seta ordiva

When she saw I was without companion, or guard, she stretched a noose, woven of silk, in the grass, with which the way was turfed.

Tu se’ armato, et ella in treccie e ‘n gonna

tese fra l’erba, ond’è verde il camino.

Then I was captured: and later it did not displease me, so sweet a light issued from her eyes. ---------------------------------Clear, sweet fresh water

Allor fui preso; et non mi spiacque poi, sí dolce lume uscia degli occhi suoi. -------------------------------Chiare, fresche et dolci acque,

where she, the only one who seemed woman to me, rested her beautiful limbs: gentle branch where it pleased her (with sighs, I remember it) to make a pillar for her lovely flank: grass and flowers which her dress lightly covered, as it did the angelic breast: serene, and sacred air, where Love pierced my heart with eyes of beauty: listen together to my last sad words.

ove le belle membra pose colei che sola a me par donna; gentil ramo ove piacque (con sospir’ mi rimembra) a lei di fare al bel fiancho colonna; herba et fior’ che la gonna leggiadra ricoverse co l’angelico seno; aere sacro, sereno, ove Amor co’ begli occhi il cor m’aperse: date udïenza insieme a le dolenti mie parole extreme. Il Cor Tristo (Roger Marsh)

II - Ne l’eterno rezzo Poscia vid’io mille visi cagnazzi fatti per freddo; onde mi vien riprezzo, e verrà sempre, de’ gelati guazzi. E mentre ch’andavamo inver’ lo mezzo al quale ogne gravezza si rauna, e io tremava ne l’eterno rezzo; se voler fu o destino o fortuna, non so; ma, passeggiando tra le teste, forte percossi ’l piè nel viso ad una. Piangendo mi sgridò: “Perché mi peste?

II - In the eternal shade Then I saw a thousand faces made dog-like by the cold; whence shuddering comes to me, and will always come, at frozen pools. And while we were going toward the centre to which tends every weight, and I was trembling in the eternal shade; whether it was will or destiny or fortune I know not, but, walking among the heads, I struck my foot hard in the face of one. Wailing he cried out: “Why do you trample me? If you do not come to increase the vengeance of Montaperti, why do you molest me?”

se tu non vieni a crescer la vendetta di Montaperti, perché mi moleste?”. E io: “Maestro mio, or qui m’aspetta,

And I: “My Master, now wait here for me, so that through him I may free myself from a doubt; then make me hasten as much as you wish.” The Leader stopped, and I said to that shade who was bitterly blaspheming still, “Who are you, who shouts so at another?” “No! Who are you, that goes through Antenora, smiting the cheeks of others, so that even

sì ch’io esca d’un dubbio per costui; poi mi farai, quantunque vorrai, fretta”. Lo duca stette, e io dissi a colui che bestemmiava duramente ancora: “Qual se’ tu che così rampogni altrui?”. “Or tu chi se’ che vai per l’Antenora, percotendo”, (rispuose), “altrui le gote,

if you were alive, it would be too much?” “Alive I am, and it may be dear to thee,” ( was my reply,) “if you demand fame, that I should note your name among the rest.” And he to me: “For the opposite I long; take yourself hence, and don’t vex me further, for ill you know how to flatter in this depth.” Then I took him by the scalp, and said, “You must name yourself, or not a hair will remain upon you here.” At which he to me, “Though thou strip me bald, I will not tell you who I am, nor will I show it to you if you fall upon my head a thousand times.”

sì che, se fossi vivo, troppo fora?”. “Vivo son io, e caro esser ti puote”, ( fu mia risposta,) “se dimandi fama, ch’io metta il nome tuo tra l’altre note”. Ed elli a me: “Del contrario ho io brama. Lèvati quinci e non mi dar più lagna, ché mal sai lusingar per questa lama!”. Allor lo presi per la cuticagna, e dissi: “El converrà che tu ti nomi, o che capel qui sù non ti rimagna”. Ond’elli a me: “Perché tu mi dischiomi, né ti dirò ch’io sia, né mosterrolti se mille fiate in sul capo mi tomi”.

I already had his hair twisted in my hand, and had pulled out more than one shock, he barking, with his eyes held down, when another cried out, “What’s up,Bocca? Haven’t you made enough music with your jaws, but you must bark? What devil is at you?” “Now,” said I, “I don’t need you to speak, accursed traitor; for to your shame will I carry true news of you.”

Io avea già i capelli in mano avvolti, e tratto glien’avea più d’una ciocca, latrando lui con li occhi in giù raccolti, quando un altro gridò: “Che hai tu, Bocca? non ti basta sonar con le mascelle, se tu non latri? qual diavol ti tocca?”. “Omai”, diss’io, “non vo’ che più favelle, malvagio traditor; ch’a la tua onta io porterò di te vere novelle”.

ma non tacer, se tu di qua entro eschi, di quel ch’ebbe or così la lingua pronta. El piange qui l’argento de’ Franceschi: “Io vidi”, potrai dir, “quel da Duera là dove i peccatori stanno freschi”.

“Begone,” he answered, “and write what you like; but be not silent, if you get out of here, about him who just had his tongue so ready. He laments here the Frenchman’s money: “I saw”, you can say, “him of Duera, there where the sinners are put to cool.”.

Bernardo Pisano Sí è debile il filo a cui s’attene la gravosa mia vita che, s’altri non l’aita, ella fia tosto di suo corso a riva;

The thread on which my heavy life hangs is worn so thin, that if no one supports it it will soon have arrived at its end:

“Va via”, (rispuose), “e ciò che tu vuoi conta;

for after I had suffered the cruel parting from my sweet good only one hope remained that gave reason for living, saying: ‘Since you are deprived of the beloved sight, endure, sad spirit: Who knows if better times will not return and more joyful days, and the good you have lost be regained? This hope sustained me for a time: but now it fails I spend too much time on it. ----------------------------At the moment when the swift sky turns towards the west, and our day flies to people beyond, perhaps, who see it there, the weary old woman on a pilgrimage finding herself alone in a far country, redoubles her steps, and hurries more and more: and then so alone at the end of her day is sometimes consoled with brief repose that lets her forget the troubles and the evils of the way. But, alas, every grief the day brings me, grows when the eternal light begins to depart from us.

però che dopo l’empia dipartita che dal dolce mio bene feci, sol una spene è stato infin a qui cagion ch’io viva, dicendo: Perché priva sia de l’amata vista, mantienti, anima trista; che sai s’a miglior tempo ancho ritorni et a piú lieti giorni, o se ‘l perduto ben mai si racquista? Questa speranza mi sostenne un tempo: or vien mancando, et troppo in lei m’attempo. -------------------------Ne la stagion che ‘l ciel rapido inchina verso occidente, et che ‘l dí nostro vola a gente che di là forse l’aspetta, veggendosi in lontan paese sola, la stancha vecchiarella pellegrina raddoppia i passi, et piú et piú s’affretta; et poi cosí soletta al fin di sua giornata talora è consolata d’alcun breve riposo, ov’ella oblia la noia e ‘l mal de la passata via. Ma, lasso, ogni dolor che ‘l dí m’adduce cresce qualor s’invia per partirsi da noi l’eterna luce.

come m’à concio ‘l foco di questa viva petra, ov’io m’appoggio.

Song, if being with me from dawn to evening has made you of my company, you’ll not wish to show yourself everywhere: and you’ll care so little for other’s praise, it’s enough for you to take thought, from hill to hill, of how I’m scorched by fire from this living stone, on which I lean.

Che debb’io far? che mi consigli, Amore? Tempo è ben di morire, et ò tardato piú ch’i’ non vorrei.

What must I do? What do you counsel, Love? The time has truly come to die, and I have lingered longer than I wish.

Canzon, se l’esser meco dal matino a la sera t’à fatto di mia schiera, tu non vorrai mostrarti in ciascun loco; et d’altrui loda curerai sí poco, ch’assai ti fia pensar di poggio in poggio

Madonna è morta, et à seco il mio core; et volendol seguire, interromper conven quest’anni rei, perché mai veder lei di qua non spero, et l’aspettar m’è noia. Poscia ch’ogni mia gioia per lo suo dipartire in pianto è volta, ogni dolcezza de mia vita è tolta.

My lady is dead, and my heart with her: and if I wish to follow, I must interrupt this cruel life, since I have no more hope of seeing her here, and waiting galls me. Now all my joy has turned to weeping at her going, all sweetness has been taken from my life.

Fuggi ‘l sereno e ‘l verde, non t’appressare ove sia riso o canto, canzon mia no, ma pianto: non fa per te di star fra gente allegra, vedova, sconsolata, in vesta negra.

Flee the fresh and blithe, don’t go near laughter or song, my song, but weep: don’t take your place among happy people, widow, disconsolate, in your black dress.

Il Cor Tristo (Roger Marsh)

III - Ugolino Noi eravam partiti già da ello, ch’io vidi due ghiacciati in una buca, sì che l’un capo a l’altro era cappello;

III - Ugolino We had now parted from him, when I saw two frozen in one hole, so that the head of one was a hood for the other. And as bread is devoured in hunger, so the upper one set his teeth upon the other, at the place where the brain joins with the nape. Not otherwise did Tydeus gnaw for spite the temples of Menalippus, than this one did the skull and the other parts. “O you! that by so bestial a sign shows hatred against him you eat, tell me why,” said I, “with this agreement, that if you rightfully complain of him, I, knowing who you are, and his sin, may yet requite you for it in the world above, if that with which I speak is not dried up.”

e come ’l pan per fame si manduca, così ’l sovran li denti a l’altro pose là ’ve ’l cervel s’aggiugne con la nuca: non altrimenti Tidëo si rose le tempie a Menalippo per disdegno, che quei faceva il teschio e l’altre cose. “O tu che mostri per sì bestial segno odio sovra colui che tu ti mangi, dimmi ’l perché”, diss’io, “per tal convegno, che se tu a ragion di lui ti piangi, sappiendo chi voi siete e la sua pecca, nel mondo suso ancora io te ne cangi, se quella con ch’io parlo non si secca”.

(Canto xxxiii) The sinner raised his mouth, from his savage feast wiping it with the hair of the head which he had wasted from behind. Then he began, “You wish me to renew a desperate grief that oppresses my heart already even before I speak of it. But, if my words are to be seed that may bear fruit of infamy for the traitor whom I gnaw, you will see me speak and weep at once. I know not who you are, nor how you come to be down here, but Florentine you seem to me when I hear you speak. You should know that I was Count Ugolino and he was Archbishop Ruggieri. Now I will tell you why I am such a neighbour. How through his evil devices I, trusting to him, was taken and then put to death, there is no need to tell. But that which you cannot have heard, namely, how cruel was my death, you shall hear, and shall know if he has wronged me.

La bocca sollevò dal fiero pasto quel peccator, forbendola a’ capelli del capo ch’elli avea di retro guasto. Poi cominciò: “Tu vuo’ ch’io rinovelli disperato dolor che ’l cor mi preme già pur pensando, pria ch’io ne favelli. Ma se le mie parole esser dien seme che frutti infamia al traditor ch’i’ rodo, parlar e lagrimar vedrai insieme. Io non so chi tu se’ né per che modo venuto se’ qua giù; ma fiorentino mi sembri veramente quand’io t’odo. Tu dei saper ch’i’ fui conte Ugolino, e questi è l’arcivescovo Ruggieri: or ti dirò perché i son tal vicino. Che per l’effetto de’ suo’ mai pensieri, fidandomi di lui, io fossi preso e poscia morto, dir non è mestieri; però quel che non puoi avere inteso, cioè come la morte mia fu cruda, udirai, e saprai s’e’ m’ha offeso.

“A narrow slit in the tower, which from me has the name of Famine, and in which others yet must be shut up, had already shown me through its opening many moons, when I had the bad dream that rent for me the veil of the future. This man appeared to me, master and lord, chasing the wolf and his whelps upon the mountain for which the Pisans cannot see Lucca. With lean, eager, and trained hounds, Gualandi with Sismondi and with Lanfranchi he had sent before him to the front. After a short run, the father and his sons seemed to me weary, and it seemed to me

Breve pertugio dentro da la Muda, la qual per me ha ’l titol de la fame, e che conviene ancor ch’altrui si chiuda, m’avea mostrato per lo suo forame più lune già, quand’io feci ’l mal sonno che del futuro mi squarciò ’l velame. Questi pareva a me maestro e donno, cacciando il lupo e ’ lupicini al monte per che i Pisan veder Lucca non ponno. Con cagne magre, studïose e conte Gualandi con Sismondi e con Lanfranchi s’avea messi dinanzi da la fronte. In picciol corso mi parieno stanchi lo padre e ’ figli, e con l’agute scane

mi parea lor veder fender li fianchi.

I saw their flanks torn by the sharp fangs.

Quando fui desto innanzi la dimane, pianger senti’ fra ’l sonno i miei figliuoli ch’eran con meco, e dimandar del pane. Ben se’ crudel, se tu già non ti duoli pensando ciò che ’l mio cor s’annunziava; e se non piangi, di che pianger suoli?

When I awoke before morning, I heard my sons, who were with me, wailing in their sleep, and asking for bread. Truly you are cruel if you weep not already, thinking of what my heart foretold; and if you weep not, at what do you ever weep? Now they were awake, and the hour drew near when food was usually brought to us, and from his dream each of us was afraid. And I heard below the door of the horrible tower being nailed up; whereupon I looked on the faces of my sons without saying a word. I wept not, I was so turned to stone within. They wept; and my poor little Anselm said, ‘You look so strange, father, ‘what troubles you?’ Yet I did not weep; nor did I answer all that day, nor the night after, until the next sun came up on the world. As soon as a little ray entered the woeful prison, and I discerned in their four faces my own look, I bit both my hands in woe; and they, thinking I did it through desire of eating, suddenly rose, and said, ‘Father, it will be far less pain for us if you eat of us; you clothed us with this wretched flesh: you strip it off.’ I quietened me then, not to make them more sad: that day and the next we all stayed dumb; ah, hard earth! why did you not open? After we had come to the fourth day, Gaddo threw himself stretched out at my feet, saying, ‘My father, why don’t you help me?’ There he died: and, as you see me,

Già eran desti, e l’ora s’appressava che ’l cibo ne solëa essere addotto, e per suo sogno ciascun dubitava; e io senti’ chiavar l’uscio di sotto a l’orribile torre; ond’io guardai nel viso a’ mie’ figliuoi sanza far motto. Io non piangëa, sì dentro impetrai: piangevan elli; e Anselmuccio mio disse: “Tu guardi sì, padre! che hai?”. Perciò non lacrimai né rispuos’io tutto quel giorno né la notte appresso, infin che l’altro sol nel mondo uscìo. Come un poco di raggio si fu messo nel doloroso carcere, e io scorsi per quattro visi il mio aspetto stesso, ambo le man per lo dolor mi morsi; ed ei, pensando ch’io ’l fessi per voglia di manicar, di sùbito levorsi e disser: “Padre, assai ci fia men doglia se tu mangi di noi: tu ne vestisti queste misere carni, e tu le spoglia”. Queta’mi allor per non farli più tristi; lo dì e l’altro stemmo tutti muti; ahi dura terra, perché non t’apristi? Poscia che fummo al quarto dì venuti, Gaddo mi si gittò disteso a’ piedi, dicendo: “Padre mio, ché non m’aiuti?”. Quivi morì; e come tu mi vedi,

I saw the three fall one by one during the fifth day and the sixth; then I began, already blind, to grope over each one, for two days calling on them after they were dead: then fasting had more power than grief.”

vid’io cascar li tre ad uno ad uno tra ’l quinto dì e ’l sesto; ond’io mi diedi, già cieco, a brancolar sovra ciascuno, e due dì li chiamai, poi che fur morti. Poscia, più che ’l dolor, poté ’l digiuno”.

When he had said this, with his eyes askance, he seized again the wretched skull with his teeth, that were strong as a dog’s upon the bone.

Quand’ebbe detto ciò, con li occhi torti riprese ’l teschio misero co’ denti, che furo a l’osso, come d’un can, forti.

e li altri due che ’l canto suso appella.

Ah Pisa! Shame of the people of the fair country where sounds the si since your neighbours are slow to punish you, let Capraia and Gorgona move and make a dam for the Arno at its mouth, so that it drowns every person in you! For even if Count Ugolino had a name for betraying you in your strongholds, you should not have set his sons on such a cross. Their young age made them innocent, you new Thebes!, little Uguccione and Brigata and the other two named in my song.

Noi passammo oltre…………

We passed onward ……………

Ahi Pisa, vituperio de le genti del bel paese là dove ’l sì suona, poi che i vicini a te punir son lenti, muovasi la Capraia e la Gorgona, e faccian siepe ad Arno in su la foce, sì ch’elli annieghi in te ogne persona! Ché se ’l conte Ugolino aveva voce d’aver tradita te de le castella, non dovei tu i figliuoi porre a tal croce. Innocenti facea l’età novella, novella Tebe, Uguiccione e ’l Brigata

binnenkort ZO | 19.02.12 | 20:00 deFilharmonie, Michaël Pas (acteur) Pulcinella, KIDconcert DO & VR | 01 & 02.03.12 | 18:00-23:30 En Avant Mars / Voorwaarts Maart Festival

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