TRANSLATIONS

Recitative
Depuis hier je cherche en vain mon maître!
Est-il encore chez vous? Mes seigneurs Capulet?
Voyons un peu si vos dignes valets
A ma voix ce matin
Oseront reparaître.

Aria
Que fais-tu blanche tourterelle,
Dans ce nid de vautours?
Quelque jour, déployant ton aile
Tu suivras les amours!
Aux vautours, il faut la bataille,
Pour frapper d'estoc et de taille
Leurs becs sont aiguisés!
Laisse-là ces oiseaux de proie,
Tourterelle qui fais ta joie
Des amoureux baisers!
Garder bien la belle!
Qui vivra verra!
Votre tourtlerelle vous échappera.

Un ramier, loin du vert bocage,
Par l'amour attiré,
A l'entour de ce nid sauvage
A, je crois, soupiré!
Les vautours sont à la curée,
Leurs chansons, que fuit Cythérée,
Résonne à grand bruit!
Cependant en leur douce ivresse
Les amants content leurs tendresses
Aux astres de la nuit!
Garder bien la belle!
Qui vivra verra!
Votre tourtlerelle vous échappera.

Recitative
Since yesterday I have sought my master in vain!
Is he still in your home, my lords, Capulet?
Let us see a bit if your worthy servants
At the sound of my voice this morning
Will dare to reappear.

Aria
What are you doing, white turtledove,
In this nest of vultures?
Some day, unfolding your wing
You will follow love!
To the vultures, a battle is necessary,
To hit with a cut and a thrust
Their beaks are sharpened!
Leave them, these birds of prey!
Turtledove, who gets your joy
From amourous kisses!
Guard well the fair one!
Whoever lives will see!
Your turtledove will escape from you.

A ring-dove, far from his green grove,
Drawn by love,
All around this wild nest
Has, I believe, sighed!
The vultures are at the quarry,
Their songs, from which Cytheria flees,
Resound with a big noise!
Meanwhile, in their sweet intoxication
The lovers tell of their tenderness
To the stars of the night!
Guard well the fair one!
Whoever lives will see!
Your turtledove will escape from you.

Adagio
Teseo mio ben, dove sei? Dove sei tu?
Vicino d'averti mi parea,
ma un lusinghiero sogno fallace m'ingannò.
Già sorge in ciel la rosea Aurora,
e l'erbe e i fior colora Febo
uscendo dal mar col crine aurato.
Sposo, sposo adorato, dove guidasti il piè
Forse le fere ad inseguir ti chiama il tuo nobile ardor.
Ah vieni, ah vieni, o caro,
ed offrirò più grata preda ai tuoi lacci.
Il cor d'Arianna amante, che t'adora costante,
stringi, stringi con nodo più tenace,
e più bella la face splenda del nostro amor.
Soffrir non posso d'esser da te divisa un sol istante.
Ah di vederti, o caro, già mi strugge il desio;
ti sospira il mio cor, vieni, vieni idol mio.

Aria (largo)
Dove sei, mio bel tesoro, chi t'invola a questo cor?
Se non vieni, io già mi moro,
né resisto al mio dolor.
Se pietade avete, oh Dei, secondate i voti miei,
a me torni il caro ben. Dove sei? Teseo!

Recitativo
Ma, a chi parlo? Gli accenti Eco ripete sol.
Teseo non m'ode, Teseo non mi risponde,
e portano le voci e l'aure e l'onde.
Poco da me lontano esser egli dovria.
Salgasi quello che più d'ogni altro
s'alza alpestre scoglio; ivi lo scoprirò.
Che miro? Oh stelle, misera me,
quest' è l'argivo legno!
Greci son quelli!
Teseo! Ei sulla prora!
Ah m'ingannassi almen ...
no, no, non m'inganno.
Ei fugge, ei qui mi lascia in abbandono.
Più speranza non v'è, tradita io sono.

Teseo, Teseo, m'ascolta, Teseo! Ma oimè! vaneggio!
I flutti e il vento lo involano per
sempre agli occhi miei. Ah siete ingiusti,
o Dei, se l'empio non punite!
Ingrato! Perchè ti trassi dalla morte
dunque tu dovevi tradirmi!
E le promesse, e i giuramenti tuoi?
Spergiuro, infido! hai cor di lasciarmi.
A chi mi volgo, da chi pietà sperar?
Già più non reggo, il piè vacilla, e in così amaro istante sento mancarmi in sen l'alma tremante.

Aria
A che morir vorrei in sì fatal momento,
ma al mio crudel tormento
mi serba ingiusto il ciel.
Misera abbandonata non ho chi mi consola.
Chi tanto amai s'invola barbaro ed infedel.

Adagio
Theseus, my love! Where are you?
I thought you were beside me,
But it was only a sweet, false dream.
The rosy dawn rises in the sky
Pheobus tinges grass and flowers
As he rises, golden, from the sea.
Dear husband! Where are you?
Perhaps the chase has called, tempting your brave spirit! Oh, come, my love
And find a sweeter prey for your snares.
Ariadne’s loving heart, constant and adoring,
Binds with ever tighter bonds
And our radiant flame burns brightly with our love.
I cannot be separated from you for a single moment
Ah! I am seized, my love, with the desire to see you
My heart sighs for you. Come, my beloved idol!

Air
Where are you my dear treasure? Who tore you from my breast? If you do not come, I shall die,
I cannot bear such grief. If you are merciful, oh gods, hear my prayer, And send my beloved back to me.
Where are you? Theseus!

Recitative
But, to whom do I speak? Echo alone repeats my words. Theseus neither hears nor responds
Winds and waves silence my voice.
He cannot be far away from me.
If I climb that cliff that rises above the rest,
I shall see him from there.
What is this? Alas! Woe is me!
That is the Argive ship!
Those men are Greeks!
Theseus! He is at the prow!
Oh, I may be mistaken….
No! There is no mistake.
He flees, and leaves me behind, abandoned.
All hope is gone, I am betrayed.

Theseus! Hear me! But alas, I shall go mad!
He is swallowed by wave and wind
Forever before my very eyes. You are unjust,
Oh Gods, if you do not punish the traitor!
Ungrateful man! Why ever did I bother to save your life? For you to betray me? And your promises?
Your vows? Faithless one! Deceiver! Have you the heart to leave me? To whom shall I turn? From whom seek compassion? I cannot stand, my knees tremble And the bitterness of this wretched moment makes my heart quiver in my breast.

Air
Oh! Would that death might come in this dreadful hour. But heaven cruelly decrees my continued suffering. Poor abandoned one, with no one to console her. My beloved has fled, cruel and disloyal. Theseus, my love! Where are you?

During this two-person opera, one singer assumes the role of Abraham while the other takes that of Isaac. Through the homophony of the two singers, God's voice emerges as if it were a third solo singer. They act out the ancient story: the father taking his son to Mount Moriah, building an altar where Abraham binds Isaac and after heartbreaking farewells, raises his knife to slay him before God intervenes at the moment of sacrifice:

GOD: Abraham, my servant, Abraham, Take Isaac, thy son by name,
That thou lovest the best of all, And in sacrifice offer him to me upon that hill there besides thee.
Abraham, I will that so it be, For aught that may befall.

Abraham: My Lord, to Thee is mine intent ever to be obedient.
That son that Thou to me hast sent offer I will to Thee. Thy bidding done shall be.

Here Abraham, turning to his son Isaac, saith:

Make thee ready, my dear darling, For we must do a little thing.
This woode do on thy back it bring, We may no longer abide.
A sword and fire that I will take, For sacrifice behoves me to make;
God's bidding will I not forsake, But ever obedient be.

Here Isaac speaketh to his father, and taketh a bundle of sticks and beareth after his father, and saith:

Isaac: Father, I am all ready to do your bidding most meekely,
And to bear this wood full bayn am I, As you commanded me.

Here they both go to the place to do sacrifice:

Abraham: Now, Isaac son, go we our way to yonder mount if that we may.

Isaac: My dear father, I will essay to follow you full fain.

Abraham being minded to slay his son Isaac, lifts up his hands, and saith the following:

Abraham: O! My heart will break in three, to hear thy words I have pitye;
As Thou wilt, Lord, so must it be, to Thee I will be bayn. Lay down thy faggot, my own son dear.

Isaac: All ready father, lo, it is here. But why make you such heavy cheer? Are you anything adread?

Abraham: Ah! Dear God! That me is woe!

Isaac: Father, if it be your will, Where is the beast that we shall kill?

Abraham: Thereof, son, is none upon this hill.

Isaac: Father, I am full sore affeared to see you bear that drawne sword.

Abraham: Isaac, son, peace, I pray thee, Thou breakest my heart in three.

Isaac: I pray you, father, layn nothing from me, But tell me what you think.

Abraham: Ah! Isaac, Isaac, I must thee kill!

Isaac: Alas! Father, is that your will, Your owne child for to spill
Upon this hilles brink? If I have trespassed in any degree With a yard you may beat me;
Put up your sword, if your will be, For I am but a child.
Would God my mother were here with me! She would kneel down upon her knee,
Praying you, father, if it may be, For to save my life.

Abraham: O Isaac, son, to thee I say God hath commanded me today
Sacrifice, this is no nay, To make of thy bodye.

Isaac: Is it God's will I shall be slain?

Abraham: Yea, son, it is not for to layn.

Here Isaac asketh his father's blessing on his knees, and saith:

Isaac: Father, seeing you mustë needs do so, Let it pass lightly and over go;
Kneeling on my knees two, Your blessing on me spread.

Abraham: My blessing, dear son, give I thee and thy mother's with heart free.
The blessing of the Trinity, My dear Son, on thee light.

Here Isaac riseth and cometh to his father, and he taketh him, and bindeth and layeth him upon the altar to sacrifice him, and saith:

Abraham: Come hither, my child thou art so sweet, Thou must be bound both hands and feet.

Isaac: Father, do with me as you will, I must obey, and that is skill,
Godës commandment to fulfil, For needs so it must be.

Abraham: Isaac, Isaac, blessed must thou be.

Isaac: Father, greet well my brethren ying, And pray my mother of her blessing,
I come no more under her wing, Farewell for ever and aye.

Abraham: Farewell, my sweetë son of grace!

Here Abraham doth kiss his son Isaac, and binds a kerchief about his head.

Isaac: I pray you, father, turn down my face, For I am sore adread.

Abraham: Lord, full loth were I him to kill!

Isaac: Ah, mercy, father, why tarry you so?

Abraham: Jesu! On me have pity, That I have most in mind.

Isaac: Now, father, I see that I shall die: Almighty God in majesty! My soul I offer unto Thee!

Abraham: To do this deed I am sorrye.

Here let Abraham make a sign as tho' he would cut off his son Isaac's head with his sword; then…

GOD: Abraham, my servant dear, Lay not thy sword in no manner on Isaac, thy dear darling.
For thou dreadest me, well wot I, That of thy son has no mercy, To fulfil my bidding.

Abraham: Ah, Lord of heaven and King of bliss, Thy bidding shall be done, i-wiss!
A hornëd wether here I see, Among the briars tied is he, To Thee offered shall he be
Anon right in this place.

Then let Abraham take the lamb and kill him.

Abraham: Sacrifice here sent me is, And all, Lord, through Thy grace.

Envoi: Such obedience grant us, O Lord! Ever to Thy most holy word.
That in the same we may accord As this Abraham was bayn;
And then altogether shall we that worthy King in heaven see,
And dwell with Him in great glorye, for ever and ever. Amen.

VSJO OTNJAL U MENJA, Op. 26, No. 2

Vsjo otnjal u menja kaznjashchij Bog, -
Zdorov'je, silu, voli, vozdukh, son.
Odnu tebja pri mne ostavil On,
Chtob ja Jemu jeshchjo molit'sja mog.

ALL WAS TAKEN FROM ME

All was taken from me by a punishing God,
My health, my willpower, freedom and dreams.
You alone He left to be by my side,
So that I could still pray to Him.

KHRISTOS VOSKRES, Op. 26, No. 6

Khristos voskres pojut vo khrame;
No grustno mne... dusha molchit.
Mir polon krov'ju i slezami,
I `etot gimn pred altarjami
Tak oskorbitel'no zvuchit.

Kogda-b On byl mezh nas i videl,
Chego dostig nash slavnyj vek,
Kak brata brat voznenavidel,
Kak opozoren chelovek,

I jesli b zdes', v blestjashchem khrame
Khristos voskres on uslykhal,
Kakimi b gor'kimi slezami,
Pered tolpoj on, zarydal!

CHRIST IS RISEN

"Christ is risen" they sing in church;
But I am sad ... my soul is silent.
The world is full of spilt blood and tears,
And this hymn before the altars
Sounds so offensive.

If only He were among us and saw
What our glorious age has achieved,
How brother came to hate his brother,
How disgraced is man.

And if, here in this resplendent temple,
"Christ is risen" He were to hear,
With such bitter tears
He would begin to sob before the crowd!

K DETJAM, Op. 26, No. 7

Byvalo, v glubokij polunochnyj chas,
Maljutki, pridu ljubovat'sja na vas;
Byvalo, ljublju vas krestom znamenat',
Molit'sja, da budet na vas blagodat',
Ljubov' Vsederzhitelja Boga.

Sterech' umilenno vash detskij pokoj,
Podumat', o tom, kak vy chisty dushoj,
Nadejat'sja dolgikh i schastlivykh dnej
Dlja vas, bezzabotnykh i milykh detej,
Kak sladko, kak radostno bylo!

Teper' prikhozhu ja. Vezde temnota,
Net v komnate zhizni, krovatka pusta,
V lampade pogas pred ikonoju svet...
Mne grustno, maljutok mojikh uzhe net!
I serdce tak bol'no sozhmetsja!

O, deti! V glubokij polunochnyj chas,
Molites' o tom, kto molilsja o vas,
O tom, kto ljubil vas krestom znamenat';
Molites', da budet i s nim blagodat',
Ljubov' Vsederzhitelja Boga.

TO CHILDREN

Long ago, in the still midnight hour
I would come to gaze upon you, my children;
Long ago, I would bless you with the sign of the cross,
And pray that with you would abide
The grace of the love of Almighty God.

I watched tenderly over your innocent rest
And thought how pure you are in your soul,
Hoping for a long, happy life.
For you, my carefree, dear children.
How sweet, how joyful it was!

Now, when I come: it is dark everywhere,
There is no life in this room, the small bed is empty,
The light before the icon died down...
I am sad, my little ones are gone!
And my heart is distressed!

O, children! In the still midnight hour
Pray for him who prayed for you,
For him, who blessed you with the sign of the cross,
Pray that he too will receive grace
And the love of Almighty God.

DUMA, Op. 8, No. 3

Prokhodjat dni... prokhodjat nochi;
Proshlo i leto; Shelestit list pozheltevshij;
Gasnut ochi; Zasnuli dumy; Serdce spit.
Zasnulo vsjo... Ne znaju ja
zhivjosh'-li ty, dusha moja.

Besstrastno ja gljazhu na svet,
I netu sljoz, i smekha net!
I dolja gde moja?
Sud'boju znat' ne dano mne nikakoj...
No jesli ja blagoj ne stoju,
Zachem ne vypalo khot' zloj?

Ne daj, o Bozhe! kak vo sne bluzhdat'...
Ostynut' serdcem mne.
Gniloj kolodoj naputi
lezhat' menja ne dopusti,

No daj mne zhit', Tvorec, o daj
mne serdcem, serdcem zhit'!
Chtob ja khvalil tvoj mir chudesnyj,
Chtob mog ja blizhnjago ljubit'!
Strashna nevolja!
Tjazhko v nej.

DUMA (THOUGHTS, REFLECTION)

Days pass... nights pass...
the summer is gone; The yellowed leaf is rustling;
The eye's fire is fading; Thoughts have eased into slumber;
The heart is asleep. Everything is sleeping...
I know not whether you, dear soul, still live.

Unmoved, I glance out at the world
With neither tears not laughter!
And what is my lot?
None is given me by Fate to know...
But if I am not to merit happiness,
Then why has not an evil lot befallen me?

Let me not, O God, wander as in a dream...
Let not my heart grow cold.
Keep me from being without purpose,
A decayed log by the roadside.

But let me live, O my creator,
Give me to live in fullness of my heart!
That I might praise Your wondrous world,
That I might love my neighbor!
My bondage is fearsome!
There is great burden in it.

O, NE GRUSTI, Op. 14, No. 8

O, ne grusti po mne!
Ja tam, gde net stradanij
Zabud' bylykh skorbej muchitel'nyje sny.
Pust' budut obo mne tvoji vospominan'ja
Svetlej, chem pervyj den' vesny.

O, ne toskuj po mne!
Mezh nami net razluki,
Ja tak zhe, kak i vstar', dushe tvojej blizka.
Menja poprezhnemu tvoji volnujut muki,
Menja gnetet tvoja toska.

Zhivi! ty dolzhen zhit'!
I jesli siloj chuda
Ty zdes' najdjosh' otradu i pokoj,
To znaj, chto `eto ja
Otkliknulas' ottuda
Na zov dushi tvojej bol'noj.

OH, DO NOT GRIEVE

Oh, do not grieve for me!
There is no suffering here.
Forget the dreams and torments of sorrows past,
Let your remembrances of me
Be brighter than spring's first day.

Oh, do not grieve for me!
Betwixt us there is no separation,
For as of old, I am close to your soul,
I am still moved by your torments
And feel your anguish.

Live! You must live!
An if, with heaven's intercession,
You find joy and peace,
Then you will know, that it is I
Who answered from there
The cry of your wounded soul.

ERSTE BEGEGNUNG, Op. 74, No. 1
by Robert Schumann

Von dem Rosenbusch, o Mutter,
von den Rosen komm ich.
An den Ufern jenes Wassers
sah ich Rosen stehn und Knospen;
von den Rosen komm ich.
An den Ufern jenes Flusses
sah ich Rosen stehn in Blüte,
brach mit Seufzen mir die Rosen

Und am Rosenbusch, o Mutter,
einen Jüngling sah ich,
an den Ufern jenes Wassers
einen schlanken Jüngling sah ich,
einen Jüngling sah ich.
An den Ufern jenes Flusses
sucht nach Rosen auch der Jüngling,
viele Rosen pflückt er, viele Rosen.
und mit Lächeln brach die schönste er,
gab mit Seufzen mir die Rose.

FIRST ENCOUNTER
by Robert Schumann

From the rosebush, O mother,
from the roses I come.
On the bank of that water
I saw roses and buds;
from the roses I come.
On the bank of that river
I saw roses in bloom;
with sighs I picked the roses.

And at the rosebush, O mother,
I saw a youth,
On the bank of that water
I saw a slim youth,
I saw a youth.
On the bank of that river
the youth was also looking for roses,
many roses he plucked, many roses,
and with a smile he picked the most beautiful,
with a sigh he gave me the rose.

BOTSCHAFT, Op. 74, No. 8
by Robert Schumann

Nelken wind' ich und Jasmin,
und es denkt mein Herz an ihn.
Nelken all', ihr flammenroten,
die der Morgen mir beschert,
zu ihm send' ich euch als Boten
jener Glut, die mich verzehrt.

Und ihr weißen Blüten wert,
sanft mit Düften grüßet ihn,
sagt ihm, daß ich bleich vor Sehnen,
daß ich auf ihn harr' in Tränen.
Nelken wind' ich und Jasmin,
und es denkt mein Herz an ihn.

Tausend Blumen, tauumflossen,
find' ich neu im Tal erwacht;
alle sind erst heut' entsprossen,
aber hin ist ihre Pracht,
wenn der nächste Morgen lacht.
Sprich du duftiger Jasmin,
sprecht ihr flammenroten Nelken,
kann so schnell auch Liebe welken?
Ach es denkt mein Herz an ihn!

MESSAGE
by Robert Schumann

Carnations and jasmine I am braiding,
And my heart thinks of him.
All you carnations, you flaming red ones,
In the morning, I will give to him.
I will send you as messengers
Of a fire that devours me.

And you, white blossoms,
Softly with your scent greet him,
Tell him I wait in tears
Pale from longing.
Carnations and jasmine I am braiding,
And my heart thinks of him.

A thousand flowers, covered with dew,
I discover in the valley;
All of them just bloomed today,
But already their splendor is gone
With the awakening of the next morning.
Tell me you sweet jasmine,
Tell me, you flaming red carnations,
Can love also whither so quickly?
Ah, my heart thinks of him!

DAS GLÜCK, Op. 79, No. 16
by Robert Schumann

Vöglein vom Zweig ... gaukelt hernieder;
Lustig sogleich ... schwingt es sich wieder.
Jetzt dir so nah, ... jetzt sich versteckend;
Abermals da, ... scherzend und neckend.
Tastest du zu, ... bist du betrogen,
Spottend im Nu ... ist es entflogen.
Still! Bis zur Hand wird's dir noch hüpfen,
Bist du gewandt, kann's nicht entschlüpfen.
Ist's denn so schwer, das zu erwarten?
Schau' um dich her! Blühender Garten!
Ei, du verzagst? Laß' es gewähren,
Bis du's erjagst, Kannst du's entbehren.
Wird's doch auch dann wenig nur bringen,
Aber es kann, süßestes singen.

-- Friedrich Hebbel (1813-1863)

HAPPINESS
by Robert Schumann

A bird from the twig ... flies happily down
Happily the same ... sweeps again now
Now so close ... now it’s hiding
But again there ... teasing and flirting
Try to touch it ... you are betrayed
It mocks you ... now it is flown.
Quiet! Up to your hand it will hop.
If you are clever, it will not slip away.
Is it so difficult to wait for it?
Look around, flowering garden!
Do you give up? Let it be.
Until you catch it. You’ll be without it.
Even then, it will bring
Only a little sweetness.

PHÄNOMEN (Op. 61, No. 3)
by Johannes Brahms

Wenn zu der Regenwand Phöbus sich gattet,
Gleich steht ein Bogenrand farbig beschattet.
Im Nebel gleichen Kreis seh ich gezogen;
Zwar ist der Bogen weiß, doch Himmelsbogen.
So sollst du, muntrer Greis, dich nicht betrüben:
Sind gleich die Haare weiß, doch wirst du lieben.

-- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832)

PHENOMENON
by Johannes Brahms

If Phoebus joins a bank of rain clouds,
A rainbow stands colorfully tinted.
In fog I see the same are outlined.
Though the bow is white, it is still heaven’s bow.
So you, lively old man, do not be sad.
Though your hair is white still you will love.

WALPURGISNACHT (Op. 75)
by Johannes Brahms

Liebe Mutter, heut Nacht heulte Regen und Wind.
  Ist heute der erste Mai, liebes Kind.
Liebe Mutter, es donnerte auf dem Brocken droben.
  Liebes Kind, es waren die Hexen droben.
Liebe Mutter, ich möcht keine Hexen sehn.
  Liebes Kind, es ist wohl schon oft geschehn.
Liebe Mutter, ob im Dorf wohl Hexen sind?
  Sie sind dir wohl näher, mein liebes Kind.
Ach Mutter, worauf fliegen die Hexen zum Berg?
  Auf Nebel, auf Rauch, auf loderndem Werg.
Ach Mutter, was reiten die Hexen beim Spiel?
  Sie reiten, sie reiten den Besenstiel.
Ach Mutter, was fegten im Dorf viel Besen!
  Es sind auch viel Hexen auf'm Bergen gewesen.
Ach Mutter, was hat es im Schornstein gekracht.
  Es flog auch wohl Eine hinaus uber Nacht.
Ach Mutter, dein Besen was die Nacht nicht zu Haus.
  Lieb’s Kind, so war er zum Brocken hinaus.
Ach Mutter, dein Bette war leer in der Nacht!
  Deine Mutter hat oben auf dem Blocksberg gewacht.

NIGHT OF WALPURGIS
by Johannes Brahms

Dear Mother, tonight the wind and rain howled.
  Today is the first day of May, dear child.
Dear Mother, it thunders upon the mountain.
  Dear child, those were witches up there.
Dear Mother, I don’t want to see the witches.
  Dear child, they are there quite often.
Dear Mother, are there witches in the village?
  They are close to you dear child.
Oh, Mother, on what do witches fly up the mountain?
  On fog, on smoke, on flaming flax.
Oh, Mother, what do witches ride while playing?
  They ride, they ride on the broomstick.
Oh, Mother, what did they sweep in the village?
  There are also many witches on the mountain.
Oh, Mother, what a crash in the chimney!
  There was one that flew out at night.
Oh, Mother, your broom was not at home last night.
  Dear child, it was up on the mountain.
Dear Mother, your bed was empty last night.
  Your Mother kept guard on the mountain height.