The ‘true manner’ of composing songs, according to Sigismondo d’India Between 1609 and 1623, five books of Musiche a una e due voci (Songs for one and two voices) composed by Sigismondo D’India, ‘a nobleman of Palermo’, were printed in Milan and Venice. Most of the songs contained in these volumes were written at the court of Turin, where in 1611 D’India was appointed director of chamber music to Carlo Emanuele I, Duke of Savoy, probably on the recommendation of the Duke’s son, Cardinal Maurizio of Savoy. Some years later, in 1624, D’India moved to Rome to work for the Cardinal at the Palazzo Monte Giordano. Although modern editions of almost all D’India’s works have now been published and the literature on the composer has continued to grow in the wake of the first book on him, Federico Mompellio’s Sigismondo d’India, musicista palermitano (1957), many aspects of the composer’s life are still shrouded in mystery, including the details of his birth. In his recent doctoral thesis on D’India, Jorge Morales suggests that he was born not in Sicily, but in Naples, to a Palermo branch of the noble but impoverished D’India family, possibly the same branch to which the famous seventeenthcentury Spanish artist Jusepe de Ribera was linked. Had D’India been in Naples towards the end of the sixteenth century, a period dominated by Carlo Gesualdo da Venosa and the other musicians in his circle, it might explain the young man’s approach to the practice of monody, which was very different from that of the Roman-Florentine school of Caccini. What is known for certain is that he soon came into contact with all the places in which the new monodic style had caught on in the early 1600s, and began making a name for himself with his completely original ‘manner’ of composition. Before his appointment at the Turin court in 1611, D’India had travelled widely within Italy. We know from the dedications of the Primo libro di madrigali (1606) and Primo libro delle Musiche (1609) that he visited Mantua and Parma, and had contacts in Ferrara, Milan, Venice and Casale. Inevitably, however, his career really took off in Rome (where he was introduced by the poet and musician Girolamo Borsieri to Prince Vittorio Amedeo of Savoy as a ‘pupil of the cantors of Rome’) and in the Florence of Caccini and the Camerata de’ Bardi. D’India says as much himself in the foreword to his Primo libro delle Musiche of 1609, addressed ‘to the Gentle Reader’: Yet because in this profession of music I have not been so easily pleased by my own works, despite having seen them honoured by the finest musicians and singers of Italy, I resolved to travel to Rome to have them performed for the finest virtuosos there, and in particular for his eminence
2
Cardinal Farnese … And on my return to Florence I myself sang some of them to Signora Vittoria Archilei, musician to His Most Serene Highness [the Grand Duke of Tuscany] and a singer more excellent than any other, and she, who is most knowledgeable about this profession, exhorted me to pursue this manner of mine, saying that she had not heard any style with as much power, or as capable of expressing the meaning of the text with such diversity of chords and variety of harmony … She went so far as to honour them with the sweetness and softness of her own voice; as also did that most excellent musician Signor Giulio Caccini, also known as Romano.
In his very first book in the new monodic style, therefore, D’India was proclaiming the originality and ‘power’ of his ‘manner’, and that the latter had received the stamp of approval of the two star singers of the day, Vittoria Archilei and Giulio Caccini. The same foreword is also key to understanding what D’India considered to be the strengths of this ‘manner’, which had been nurtured by his conversation with ‘intelligent men of Music’ ever since his childhood: … I began then to seek out some subtle particularities to enable a solo voice to sing well, and I discovered that one could compose in the true manner by using intervals out of the ordinary, moving with the greatest invention from one consonance to the next, depending on the variety of the meaning of the words, and that by such means the songs would have greater impact and greater power to move the emotions of the soul than that which they would have wielded had they all been composed in one way, using ordinary movement.
The lyrics set in all five books of Musiche (as can be seen from the pieces included on this album, drawn from Books One, Two, Three and Four) represent the leading authors of the heyday of the madrigal: Bernardo and Torquato Tasso, Giovanni Battista Marino and, first and foremost, Giovanni Battista Guarini, chief poet at the legendary Este court at Ferrara, which seems to have been the true cultural pole star for D’India as it had been for Gesualdo. The ‘variety’ and ‘greatest invention’ that the composer had set out as central to his theory can be seen by comparing different pieces and observing how he avoids the kind of repetition and monotony which to our modern ears seem innate to Florentine-style recitar cantando (speaking in song). Even in the works in the First Book, D’India provided splendid examples of what he meant by ‘variety’ in using different types of basso ostinato: for example, both the solo song ‘Vostro fui, vostro son’ and ‘Dove potrò mai gir’ for two voices (tracks 13–14) are sung to the bass of the Neapolitan Ruggero, while others, such as
3
‘O Primavera’, a five-section piece of exceptional intensity (tracks 5–9), is performed above strophic basses of D’India’s own invention. The three-part madrigal ‘Amico hai vinto’ – ‘Poco quindi lontan’ – ‘Non morì già’ (tracks 16–18), published in 1621 as part of the Fourth Book, reveals an extraordinary anticipation of Monteverdi which, although noted by Francesco Cera, has been remarkably little discussed by specialist musicologists. The lyrics are in fact the final part of a wonderful section of Torquato Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata (Canto XII). D’India’s setting of Clorinda’s death scene predates by several years Monteverdi’s Combattimento di Tancredi e Clorinda, which was first staged in the home of a Venetian nobleman in 1624 and then published in 1638 as part of the Eighth Book of Madrigals. Neither is this the only evidence of D’India’s seeming to want to position himself as a composer with a propensity for music drama similar to that of Monteverdi. I myself came across a letter in the Bentivoglio archive in Ferrara (also published by Tim Carter in 1996), which was written by D’India in 1627 and summarises his thoughts on the subject. After stating that he has served the noble Bentivoglio family of Ferrara since his ‘earliest years’, and that he set to music Guarini’s pastoral text La Bonarella (between 1607 and 1612), he mentions to the Marquis Bentivoglio, an expert in musical-theatrical stagings, that he is sending him a Lamento d’Armida and a Lamento di Didone which he composed ‘in two hours at Tivoli, at the house of his eminence the Cardinal’. Just by listening to these works, especially if performed by Settimia Caccini, the Marquis would ‘be able to understand [his] manner of writing for the stage’, very different from the style (‘full of canzonettas’) used in Rome a year earlier by Mazzocchi for La Catena di Adone, a work that he himself would have composed in true recitative style, to which – as the Marquis knew – ‘one had to have been born’. Once again it is the idea of ‘power’, as mentioned several times in the foreword to the First Book, that lies at the heart of the originality of D’India’s compositional ‘manner’. There are obvious similarities between D’India and Monteverdi in terms of their ideas and their personalities. And yet, despite the 2005 publication of Andrea Garavaglia’s Sigismondo D’India, ‘drammaturgo’, D’India the dramatist is still awaiting the recognition he truly deserves. ! Dinko Fabris
The Ensemble Arte Musica, founded and directed by Francesco Cera, performs a vast repertoire of Italian vocal music, from late madrigals to 18th-century cantatas and sacred music, collaborating regularly with renowned early music singers. In 1997 the ensemble made its concert debut at the Flanders Festival in Bruges and issued a critically acclaimed recording of Giovanni Paolo Colonna’s sacred music on the label Tactus. A series of concerts and recordings followed, including: the Fourth Book of Madrigals by Carlo Gesualdo; scherzi musicali and various books of madrigals by Claudio Monteverdi; cantatas by Domenico Scarlatti; solo motets from the collection Ghirlanda sacra; madrigals composed for the ‘Concerto delle dame’; and first modern performances of works by Domenico Belli, Giacomo Carissimi, Leonardo Leo and Giovanni Battista Martini. More recent recordings for Brilliant Classics include Carlo Gesualdo’s Tenebrae Responsoria (94804) and the complete string sinfonias of Alessandro Stradella (95142). The Ensemble Arte Musica has appeared at the Kölner Philharmonie (Cologne), Festival of Flanders (Bruges), Resonanzen (Vienna), Barocktage (Melk), Lebensmusik (Innsbruck), Vesperali (Lugano), Les Gouts reunis (Lausanne), Tage für Alte Musik (Brandenburg), Festival Pax (Augsburg), Monteverdi Festival (Cremona), Accademia Filarmonica (Rome), Bologna Festival, Milano Arte Musica, Sagra Musicale Malatestiana (Rimini), Festival Cantar Lontano (Ancona) and Festival Galuppi (Venice). from left: Francesco Tomasi, Damiana Pinti, Riccardo Pisani, Francesco Cera, Lucia Napoli, Andrés Montilla-Acurero, Silvia De Maria
Translation: Susannah Howe
4
5
Francesco Cera is regarded as one of Italy’s leading early music specialists, admired for his extensive knowledge of musical styles and expressions. Born in Bologna, Italy, he studied organ and harpsichord, specialising in early music under Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini and later with Gustav Leonhardt at the Amsterdam Conservatory. Francesco Cera applies his distinctive interpretative approach not only to early keyboard instruments, but also to Baroque vocal and instrumental music. From 1991 to 1994 he was a member of the ensemble Il Giardino Armonico, and since 1996 he has directed the Ensemble Arte Musica, with whom he performs vocal Italian repertoire spanning the period from Gesualdo’s madrigals to 18th-century cantatas. He has performed as a soloist and leader of Ensemble Arte Musica in important international festivals such as Resonanzen (Konzerthaus, Vienna), Festival of Flanders (Gent and Bruges), Musica e Poesia (San Maurizio, Milan), Festival de Saint-Michel en Thiérache, Festival de musique ancienne (Maguelone), Baroktage (Melk), Les Gouts reunis (Lausanne) and Musica Transalpina (London), and on historic organs throughout Europe. Cera’s recordings of harpsichord and organ works by 17th-century Italian composers and of Scarlatti sonatas for the label Tactus were highly acclaimed by international music magazines. His Bach recordings include: the French Suites; four harpsichord concertos (on the label Arts); and the complete Orgelbüchlein with alternating sung chorales (Brilliant Classics 94639). Among his recent recordings for Brilliant Classics are: the complete harpsichord works of Jean-Henri D’Anglebert (94793); Scarlatti and the Neapolitan Song (94488); the keyboard music of Giovanni Maria Trabaci (94897); and The Organ at European Courts (95240). Curriculum, reviews and discography at www.francescocera.it
Recording: 30–31 August & 1–2 September 2017, Palazzo Cagnano, Laureana Cilento, Campania, Italy Sound engineer & Editing: Luca Ricci Artist photography: ! Antonio Prinzo " & ! 2018 Brilliant Classics
6
1
Alla guerra, alla guerra d’amore! Hor che par che n’appelle La stagion e diletto del core Alla guerra, alla guerra d’amore!
To the war of Love! Now that it seems we are called By the season of the year and heart’s delight To the war of Love!
All’arringo le dame più belle Se ne venghino ardite Ove si gusta soave il dolore Alla guerra, alla guerra d’amore!
To the list let the fairest ladies Come undaunted Where the pain is sweetly savoured To the war of Love!
E le trombe e le dolci ferite Sono gli ardenti baci Onde si gusta soave il dolore Alla guerra, alla guerra d’amore!
And the trumpets and the tender wounds Are burning kisses By which the pain is sweetly savoured To the war of Love!
Qui le risse e gli assalti son paci Ed ha vittoria uguale Così il vinto come il vincitore Alla guerra, alla guerra d’amore!
Here the struggles and attacks are peace And victory is shared By vanquished and victor To the war of Love!
anonymous
2
Intenerite voi, lagrime mie Intenerite voi quel duro core Ch’invan percosse Amore. Versate a mille a mille Fate di pianto un mar, dolenti stille O quel mio vago scoglio D’alterezza e d’orgoglio Ripercosso da voi men duro sia O se n’esca con voi l’anima mia.
3
Vorrei bacarti, o Filli Ma non so come ove ’l mio bacio scocchi Ne la bocca o negl’occhi. Cedan le labra a voi, lumi divini Fidi specchi del core Vive stelle d’Amore! Ah, pur mi volgo a voi, perle e rubini Tesoro di bellezza Fontana di dolcezza Bocca, onor del bel viso. Nasce il pianto da lor, tu m’apri il riso. Giovanni Battista Marino
Ottavio Rinuccini
Soften, my tears Soften that hard heart Against which Love dashes in vain. Pour forth in your thousands Tears of sorrow, and make a sea of woe. May that beloved rock of mine Rock of haughtiness and pride When you smash against it, be less unyielding Or else may my soul with you depart. I would kiss you, Phyllis, But know not where to place my kiss first, Upon your lips or upon your eyes. Let lips yield to you, heavenly orbs Faithful mirrors of the heart, Love’s living stars. Ah, yet I turn to you, pearls and rubies, Beauty’s treasure, Fountain of sweetness, Lips, the glory of a lovely face. From eyes tears are born, lips smile.
7
4
5
6
7
8
8
Cruda Amarilli, che col nome ancora D’amar, ahi lasso, amaramente insegni. Amarilli del candido ligustro Più candida e più bella Ma dell’aspido sordo E più sorda e più fera e più fugace. Poi che col dir t’offendo I’ mi morrò tacendo. Giovanni Battista Guarini I. O Primavera, gioventù de l’anno, Bella madre di fiori, D’erbe novelle e di novelli amori, Tu torni ben, ma teco Non tornano i sereni E fortunati dì de le mie gioie. Tu torni ben, tu torni, Ma teco altro non torna Che del perduto mio caro tesoro La rimembranza misera e dolente. Tu quella sei, tu quella Ch’eri pur dianzi sì vezzosa e bella, Ma non son io già quel ch’un tempo fui, Sì caro agli occhi altrui.
Cruel Amaryllis, as your name says You teach of love, alas, bitterly. Amaryllis, you who are purer And more beautiful than the privet, Yet more deaf, savage and fleeting Than the deaf viper. Since by speaking I offend you I shall die in silence. O Spring, gentle childhood of the year, Fair mother of flowers, Of fresh herbs and of new desires, You turn again, but with you No more turn the dear And lucky days of my joys. You well turn, you turn But with you nothing else turns Save of my lost dear treasure The miserable wretched memory. You are still the one You used to be, as charming and fair, But I am no longer the one I once was, So dear in others eyes.
II. O dolcezze amarissime d’Amore Quanto è più duro perdervi, che mai Non v’aver o provate o possedute. Come saria l’amar felice stato Se ’l già goduto ben non si perdesse; O, quando egli si perde, Ogni memoria ancora Del dileguato ben si dileguasse.
Oh bitter sweetnesses of love, Much worse it is to lose you Then never to have you enjoy’d at all. How glad would loving be If that already lov’d would not be lost. The memory of any good that wastes Consumes itself As th’other is consum’d.
III. Ma, se le mie speranze oggi non sono, Com’è l’usato lor, di fragil vetro, Qui pur vedrò colei Ch’è ’l sol degli occhi miei!
But if my hopes today be not As is their wont, of brittle glass, Then I shall see her here: the sun-beams of my eyes!
IV. Qui pur vedrolla al suon de’ miei sospiri Fermar il piè fugace. Qui pur da le dolcezze Di quel bel volto avrà soave cibo Nel suo lungo digiun l’avida vista.
Here I shall see her at sound of my sighs Stay her quick feet. Here shall my greedy eyes after long Fast receive sweet food From her divinest look.
9
Qui pur vedrò quell’empia Girar inverso me le luci altère Se non dolci almen fère. E se non carche d’amorosa gioia, Sì crude almen ch’ i’ moia.
Here I will see the wicked one Turn her sov’raigne lights on me If not gentle, yet savage will they be. If not the means to breed my joy, So cruel at least, that I will die.
V. O lungamente sospirato invano Avventuroso dì, se dopo tanti Foschi giorni di pianti Tu mi concedi Amor di veder oggi Ne’ begli occhi di lei Girar sereno il sol degli occhi miei! Giovanni Battista Guarini
O happy day, for long time Sigh’d in vain, If after such clouded times, with complaints Love you do grant me To see her fair eyes Made bright as is the morning sun!
10 La mia Filli crudel spesso mi fugge E gioisce d’amor che ’l cor mi strugge. Ma pietosa talvolta Mi mira, m’ascolta. Ah se provasse i miei gravi martiri O felici i miei caldi sospiri.
My cruel Phyllis often flees from me And rejoices so, that my heart is tortured. But occasionally, merciful She gazes at me and listens. Ah, if she could feel my bitter torments Happy would be my fervent sighs.
Quand’i vaghi capelli sparge al vento Novi lacci al mio cor ordir mi sento. Poi con dolce sorriso mi mostra il bel viso. Ah se provasse l’amare mie pene, O soavi mie dolci catene.
When she looses her fine tresses in the wind I feel more bonds being woven for my heart. Then with a sweet smile She shows me her fair face Ah, if she only could feel my sufferings, Welcome would be my sweet chains.
Quando gira ver me gl’occhi celesti Par ch’a morte mi sfidi e vinto resti. Poi con gioia infinita Mi sana e dà vita. Ah che con arte amorosa e guerriera Vuol provar la mia fede sincera.
When she turns on me her heavenly eyes In mortal combat she seems to engage me. Then with supreme joy She heals me and grants life. Ah, with what warlike amorous wiles She means to test my faithfulness.
Ma se sol per provar s’io son fedele Hor pietosa si mostra et hor crudele. Mi ferisca, mi strugga Mi leghi e sen fugga. Che sospirar e languir non poss’io D’altro amor che dell’idolo mio.
But if it is only to test whether I am true That she is sometimes merciful, or cruel Then may she wound me, torture me Bind me and flee. For I cannot sigh and yearn For any other love but my idol’s.
anonymous
9
I. 11 Odi quel rosignolo Che dolcemente canta? E chi forse ti credi Che gli dia tanto spirto e tanta voce In sì piccole fauci? E che gli insegni Spirar musico suono? Or lunghissimo, or tronco Ora raccolto, or sparso. Odi come gli accenti Ora promette, or gli niega Or gl’intreccia, or gli lega, or gli discioglie.
Hear the nightingale Sweetly singing? And perhaps you wonder What gives so much strength and voice To such a tiny throat? And what teaches him To breathe that tuneful sound? Now long held, now shortened Now contained, now expansive. Hear how he now offers his notes Now he witholds them Now he weaves, joins and separates them.
II. 12 Mormora seco alquanto E spiega poi repente il canto, or chiaro Or pieno, or grave, ora sottile, or molle. Or l’innalza, or cade Or la sostiene, or la spiega, or la vibra Or l’inaspra, or la tempra, or l’ammolisce. Il mastro e solo Amore. Francesco Bracciolini
10
For a moment he sings to himself Then suddenly opens out his clear song Now full-throated, now solemn, now subtle Now his voice rises, now it falls Now he holds it, now he opens it out, trills, Now harshly, now melodiously, now dies, Love only teaches him to sing.
13 Vostro fui, vostro son e sarò vostro Finchè vedrò quest’aria e questo cielo. Vili prima saran le perle e l’ostro Negri et algenti fian le nevi e ’l gelo Che ’l tempo spenga mai quest’ardor nostro Per cangiar clima o variar di pelo. Anzi crescerà sempre il mio bel foco Quanto andrò più cangiando etade o loco. Bernardo Tasso
I was yours, I am yours, I shall be yours As long as I breathe this air and see this sky. Pearls and purple would become ignoble, Snows and frost become black and burning Before time could ever extinguish our love Through changing climate or aging. But my love will rise in pitch The older I become and the farther I go.
14 Dove potrò mai gir tanto lontano Ch’io non senta d’Amore l’acuto strale? Dove mai fuggirò che non sia invano Innanzi a quel che ha sì veloci l’ale? Dove n’andrò che quella bianca mano E quei begli occhi donde Amor m’assale Non mi sian sempre innanzi in ogni loco Sì ch’arda più quanto ho più lungi il foco?
Where shall I ever turn so far That I not feel the sharp arrow of Love? Wherever shall I flee, that is not in vain, Before the one with wings so fast? Where shall I go, so that white hand And those eyes from which Amor attacks me Do not always follow me from place to place Such that the fire hotter burns the farther off it is?
anonymous
15 “Là tra ’l sangue e le morti egro giacente Mi pagherai le pene, empio guerriero. Per nome Armida chiamerai sovente Negli ultimi singulti. Udir ciò spero.” Or qui mancò lo spirto a la dolente, Né quest’ultimo suono espresse intero, E cadde tramortita, e si diffuse Di gelato sudore, e i lumi chiuse. Torquato Tasso (Gerusalemme liberata)
‘There, amidst the blood and the dead, in frozen agony You will pay for my pains, oh wicked warrior. You will call out often for Armida With your final gasps. I hope to hear it.’ Then the ailing woman’s spirit flagged, That final syllable not even uttered whole, And she fell stunned, and clothed In icy sweat, her eyes she closed.
I. 16 “Amico, hai vinto, io ti perdon. Perdona Tu ancora, al corpo no, che nulla pave, A l’alma sì. Deh per lei prega, e dona Battesmo a me ch’ogni mia colpa lave”. In queste voci languide risuona Un non so che di flebile e soave Ch’al cor gli scende ed ogni sdegno ammorza E gli occhi a lagrimar invoglia e sforza.
‘Friend, thou hast won, I pardon you. Nor save This body, that all torments can endure, But save my soul, Come wash away my sins, Baptism I dying crave’. His heart relenting nigh in sunder rave, With woeful speech of that sweet creature, So that his rage, his wrath, and anger died, And on his cheeks tears for ruth down slide.
II. 17 Poco quindi lontan nel sen d’un monte Scaturia mormorando un picciol rio. Egli v’accorse e l’elmo empiè nel fonte, E tornò mesto al grande ufficio e pio. Tremar sentì la man, mentre la fronte Non conosciuta ancor sciolse e scoprio. La vide e la conobbe: e restò senza E voce e moto. Ahi vista! ahi conoscenza!
With murmur loud down from mountain’s side A little runnel tumbled near the place, Thither he ran and filled his helmet wide, And quick returned to do that work of grace, With trembling hands her beaver he untied, Which done he saw, and knew her face, And lost therewith his speech and moving, Oh woeful knowledge, ah unhappy sight!
III. 18 Non morì già, ché sue virtute accolse Tutte in quel punto e in guardia ’l cor le mise. E premendo il suo affanno a dar si volse Vita con l’acqua a chi col ferro uccise. Mentre egli il suon de’ sacri detti sciolse Colei di gioia trasmutossi, e rise. E in atto di morir lieta e vivace Dir parea: “S’apre il ciel, io vado in pace”. Torquato Tasso (Gerusalemme liberata) 19 Or che ’l ciel et la terra e ’l vento tace E le fere e gli augelli il sonno affrena, Notte il carro stellato in giro mena E nel suo letto il mar senz’onda giace. Francesco Petrarca
He died not, but all his strength unites, And to his virtues gave his heart in guard, Bridling his grief, with water he requites The life that he bereft with iron hard. And while the sacred words he recites, The woman to heaven with joy prepared; And as her life decays her joys increase, She smiled and said ‘Farewell, I die in peace’. Now that the sky, the earth and wind are silent And beasts and birds are reined in sleep, Night leads its starry chariot in its round, And the sea without a wave lies in its bed.
11
20 Tu mi lascio o cruda, o bella Ah, dove vai? O fatal mia cara stella Ohimè che fai? De’ tuoi lumi i dolci rai Nieghi a gli occhi e doni al core Empia, l’ardore.
You leave me, o cruel, fair lady Where are you going? My fated and beloved star Oh what are you doing? You deny my eyes the sweet beams Of your own, filling my heart, O wicked one, with passion.
Torna o Clori e mira almeno Come si strugge Al bel guardo tuo sereno Chi t’ama. E fugge Pur costei, che il fiore adugge Di mia speme, e di lei privo Pur anco vivo?
Turn back, my Chloris, see at least How he who loves you Pines for your fairest gaze Serene. And will she yet flee, Woman enshadowing the flower Of my hope, and with it gone Will I yet live?
O d’amor legge severa L’Anima mia Fugge et ei non vuol ch’io pera Ah sorte ria! Seguirò per questa via La mia vita, dimmi o sorte, O la mia morte?
Oh rigid law of love My soul departs And yet gives me no leave to perish Ah cruel fate! Upon this path is it my life I shall pursue, tell me, o fate, Or my demise?
Francesco de Perissone
21 Occhi, convien morire. Su dunque or vi chiudete Per giammai non mirar luci men belle. O mie fatali stelle, io vi lascio il cor mio. Io parto, io moro, addio. Ahi chi da voi mi svelse? Ahi chi mi to’ la vita? Durissima partita! 22 Com’è soave cosa Tanto goder quanto ami. Tanto aver quanto brami. Sentir che la tua donna A’ tuoi caldi sospiri Caldamente sospiri
12
anonymous
My eyes, you shall die. So please, close now, for not being able To see less fair eyes. Oh my fatal stars, I leave you my heart. I’m leaving, I’m dying, goodbye. Ah, who turned me away from you? Who has taken my life? Such a hard farwell! How sweet it is To enjoy as much as you love, To receive as much as you crave. And to hear that your woman At your warm sighing Warmly sighs
E dica poi “Ben mio Quanto son, quanto miri Tutto e tuo. S’io son bella A te solo son bella, A te s’adorna questo viso Quest’oro e questo seno. In questo petto mio Alberghi tu, caro mio cor, non io”. Giovanni Battista Guarini 23 Donna, siam rei di morte. Errasti, errai. Di perdon non son degni i nostri errori. Tu, ch’aventasti in me sì fieri ardori; Io, ch’a sì chiaro sol gli occhi levai.
And says ‘My love What I am, what you see All is yours. If I’m beautiful It is only for you, This face is adorned for you These locks of gold and this breast. Within this breast of mine You dwell, my dearest heart, not I’. O mistress mine, we are condemned to death. Our errors are not worthy of forgiveness. You, who inspired in me such fervent longing; I, who raised my eyes to such a brilliant sun.
Io, ch’una fera rigida adorai. Tu, che fosti sord’aspe a’ miei dolori. Tu nell’ire ostinata, io negli amori. Tu pur troppo sdegnasti, io troppo amai.
I, who dared adore an untamed beast. You, who were a viper deaf to all my pains. You in stubborn anger, I in love. You, in spite of too much scorn, I loved too much.
Or la pena laggiù nel fiero Averno, Pari al fallo n’aspetta. Arderà poi Chi visse in foco, in vivo foco eterno.
Now a fitting punishment await us Down in fiercest hell. For he who lived in fire In neverending living fire shall burn.
Quivi, s’Amor fia giusto, amendua noi Here, if Love is right, we both Tra le fiamme dannati, avrem l’inferno: Amidst the damned flames will have our hell: Tu nel mio cor, ed io negli occhi tuoi. You in my heart, and I within your eyes. Giovanni Battista Marino 24 Occhi della mia vita, in cui si vede Dolce scherzar il pargoletto Amore, Pietà del mio dolore.
Eyes of my life, in which one sees The cherub Amor sweetly joking, Have mercy on my pain.
Stelle, splendor de l’alma ch’accendete Da voi viene il mio pianto e ’l mio gioire, Pietà del mio languire.
Stars, o splendour of the soul you shine upon, You are the source of all my weeping and my joy, Have mercy on my pining.
Ahi vibrate ad ogn’or In me dardi e saette, Che son archi i bei sguardi. Vaghi lumi d’Amore, Occhi, raggi del core.
Oh, quiver constantly in me You darts and arrows, Since gazes beauteous are bows. Fair lights of Amor, Eyes, are beams upon my heart.
anonymous
13
Also available on Brilliant Classics
Scarlatti and the Neapolitan Song: Canzonas and Sonatas 94488
J.S. Bach: OrgelbĂźchlein, Chorales 94639 2CD
Trabaci: Harpsichord and Organ Music 94897 2CD
Stradella: Complete String Sinfonias 95142
D’Anglebert: Complete Harpsichord Music 94793 3CD
Gesualdo: Tenebrae Responsoria 94804
The Organ at European Courts 95240
Erotica Antiqua: Neapolitan Villanellas 95448