From Guilt To Enlightenment
Content
MARIANGELA CHATZISTAMATIOU
soprano KEVIN BYLSMA
piano
Friday,, April 8, 2011 Friday 8 p.m. Bryan Recital Hall Moore Musical Arts Center
translations
Lamenti Barocchi
Lamento
“The lament plays an important part in Baroque vocal repertoire, with an earlier literary and musical counterpart in the sixteenth-century madrigal. In early opera one of the most influential such compositions was Monteverdi’s Lament of Arianna, a work that survives from a lost opera on the subject of Ariadne, deserted by Theseus on the island of Naxos. Monte-
(It.: ‘lament’) Usually,, a vocal piece based on a mournful text, often Usually built over a descending tetrachord ostinato and common in cantatas and operas of the Baroque period. Originating in ancient Greek drama and further developed in Latin poetry, the lament topos enjoyed a
verdi adapted the lament as a madrigal, following contemporary practice, and later later,, towards the end of his life, gave it a sacred text. In 1638, in his eighth book of madrigals, he provided another notable lament in his ‘Lamento della ninfa’, one of his ‘Canti amorosi’, the counterpart of the ‘Canti guerrieri’ that form the first part par t of the collection. The lament itself, based on the distinctive and increasingly customary descending four notes in the bass, is framed by sections for two tenors and bass. The text is by Rinuccini, the author of “Arianna” and “Il ballo delle ingrate”.” Keith Anderson, Lamenti Barocchi , Vol. 2 NAXOS ASIN: B000001474
lament, n. Pronunciation: Etymology: < weeping, lamentation.
An act of lamenting, a passionate or demonstrative expression of grief. “lament, n.”OED Online. November 2010. Oxford University Press. http://0-www.oed http://0-www.oed.. com.maurice.bgsu.edu/viewdictionaryentry/Entry/105284 (accessed March 17, 2011).
privileged status in European literature. Set apart as an exceptional moment of emotional climax or particularly intense expression, it provided an occasion for special formal development and for the display of expressive expressiv e rhetoric and of affective imagery. Laments were most often associated with female characters and the female voice. Ellen Rosand. “Lamento.” In Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online, http://0-www http://0-www.oxfordmusiconline.com. .oxfordmusiconline.com. maurice.bgsu.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/15904 (accessed March 18, 2011).
guilt
1.An unfortunate side effect that results from being overly exposed
to morality. 2. To feel the secret little man screaming and scraping sc raping your inside stomach to let u know you have done wrong and will continue to do so till error that has been done is no more.
guilt trip When someone tries to make you feel guilty for thinking/ feeling/doing things a certain way. or when someone tries to make you do whatever they want you to so they start making you feel bad about something... so then you’ll give in and do whatever they want. “he convinced me to do what he wanted by guilt tripping me!” www.urbandictionary.com
guilt, n Pronunciation: /gIlt/ Etymology: Old English gylt strong masculine masculine < prehistoric type *gulti-z; related related to guilt v. 1. A failure of duty, delinquency; offence, crime, sin. 2. Responsibility for an action or event; the ‘fault’ ‘fault’ of (some person). (In Old English const. genitive.) 3. Desert (of a penalty); esp. in phrase without guilt, without having done anything to deserve one’s fate, innocently. 4. The state (meriting condemnation and reproach of conscience) of having wilfully com-
mitted crime or heinous moral offence; criminality, great culpability. culpability. “guilt, n.” OED Online. March 2011. Oxford University Press. 2 April 2011 <http://0-www. oed.com.maurice.bgsu.edu/view/Entry/82364?rskey=VluVeh&result=1>.
Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643) Author: Carlo Milanuzzi (ca. 1647) “Si dolce è’l tormento, madrigal for solo voice” SV 332
A simple strophic madrigal. Very Very dissonant but very pleasant, quite contrasting qualities like the tilte itself....“so sweet is the torment.”
Si dolce è’l tormento Ch’in Ch’ in seno mi sta, Ch’io vivo contento Per cruda beltà. Nel ciel di bellezza S’accreschi fierezza Et manchi pietà: Che sempre qual scoglio All’onda d’orgoglio Mia fede sarà. La speme fallace Rivolgam’ piè. Diletto ne il pace Non scendano a me. E l’empia ch’adoro Mi nieghi ristoro Di buona mercè: Tra doglia infinita, Tra speme tradita Vivrà la mia fè
So sweet is the torment that I have in my heart that I live happily for cruel beauty. Heavenly beauty may increase beauty and be lacking in pity: but like a rock my fidelity will stand against the waves of pride. Deceptive hope I turned about feet Neither delight notmy peace may come to me and the pitiless one whom whom I adore may deny me the comfort of kind mercy: but my faith will live amid infinite sorrow and betrayed hope.
Se fiamma d’amore Già mai non sentì Quel riggido core Ch’il cor mi rapì,
If the unyielding unyielding heart that has ravaged my heart has never felt the flame of love, if it denies me mercy ,
Se nega pietate La cruda beltate Che l’alma invaghì: Ben fia che dolente, Pentita e languente
the cruel man who has made me love him, may he in sorrow, regret and suffering, one day sigh for me.
Translation by Bard Suverkrop Edited by Mariangela Chatzistamatiou
Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643) Libretto by Ottavio Rinuccini (1562-1621) “Lamento della Ninfa, Amor “ from the Eigth Book of Madrigals, SV 163 - Madrigali - Madrigali Guerrieri ed ed Amorosi
Published in 1638 as a 5-part madrigal Non havea Febo ancora recato al mondo il dí, ch’una donzella fuora
The Sun had not brought The day to the world yet, When a maiden
del proprio albergo uscí.
Went out of her dwelling. On her pale face Grief could be seen, Often from her heart A deep sigh was drawn.
Sul pallidetto volto scorgeasi il suo dolor, spesso gli venia sciolto un gran sospir dal cor. Sí calpestando ori
errava hor qua, hor là, i suoi perduti amori cosí piangendo va: “Amor”, dicea, il ciel mirando, il piè fermo, “dove, dov’è la fè ch’el traditor giurò?” “Fa’ che ritorni il mio amor com’ei pur fu, o tu m’ancidi, ch’io non mi tormenti più.”
Miserella, ah più no, no, tanto gel soffrir non può. “Non vo’ più ch’ei sospiri se non lontan da me, no, no che i martiri più non darammi affè. Perché di lui mi struggo, tutt’orgoglioso sta, che si, che si se’l fuggo ancor mi pregherà? Se ciglio ha più sereno colei, che’l mio non è, già non rinchiude in seno, Amor, sí bella fè. Ne mai sí dolci baci da quella bocca havrai, ne più soavi, ah taci, taci, che troppo il sai.”
Sí tra sdegnosi pianti spargea le voci al ciel; cosí ne’ cori amanti mesce amor amma, e gel.
Thus, treading upon owers,
She wandered, now here, now there, And lamented her lost loves Like this: - O Love - she said, Gazing at the sky, as she stood Where’s the delity
That the deceiver promised? - Make my love come back As he used to be Or kill me, so that I will not suffer anymore.
Poor her! She cannot bear All this coldness! - I don’t want him to sigh any longer But if he’s far from me. No! He will not make me suffer Anymore, I swear! He’s proud Because I languish for him. Perhaps Perh aps if I y away from him He will come to pray to me again. If her eyes are more serene Than mine, O Love, she does not hold in her heart A delity so pure as mine. And you will not receive from those lips, Kisses as sweet as mine, nor softer. Oh, don’t speak! Don’t speak! you know better than that!
So amidst disdainful tears, She spread her crying to the sky; Thus, in the lovers’ hearts Love mixes re and ice. Translation by Paolo Montanari only the text in bold in sung
Claudio Monteverdi Libretto by Ottavio Rinuccini “Lamento d’ Arianna” SV 22 The only surviving part of the opera Arianna. Published in 1614 [madrigal for five voices], from Libro VI de madrigali , no. 1. Location: Naxos- Greece Theseus left Arianna behind of their trip from Crete back home. Arianna feels alone, frightened and homesick. She calls out to Theseus to come back and take her and not to leave her there. If he does not return, then she wants to die.
Lasciatemi morire! E che volete voi che mi conforte In così hdura sorte, In così gran martire?, Lasciatemi morire! O Teseo, O Teseo mio, Si, che mio ti vo’ dir, dir, che mio pur sei, Benchè t’involi, ahi crudo, a gli occhi miei Volgiti, Teseo mio, O Dio! Volgiti Vo lgiti indietro a rimirar colei Che lasciato ha per te la Patria e il Regno, E in queste arene ancora, Cibo di fere dispietate é crude, Lascierà l’ossa ignude. O Teseo, O Teseo mio, Se tu sapessi, O Dio! Se tu sapessi, ohimè, come s’affanna La povera Arianna, forse pentito Rivolgeresti Rivolg eresti ancor la prora al lito: Ma con l’aure serene Tu te ne vai felice et io quì piango. A te prepara Atene Liete pompe superbe, Ed io rimango Cibo di fere in solitarie arene. Te l’uno e l’altro tuo vecchio parente Stringeran lieti, ed io Più non vedrovvi, O Madre, O Padre mio! Dove, dov’è la fede Che tanto mi giuravi? Così ne l’alta fede Tu mi ripon degl’Avi? Son queste le corone Onde m’adorni il crine? Questi gli scettri sono, Queste le gemme e gl’ori? Lasciarmi in abbandono A fera che mi strazi e mi divori? Ah Teseo, ah Teseo mio, Lascierai tu morire Invan piangendo, La misera Ariannainvan gridando aita, Ch’a te dossi e ti diè gloria e vita?
Ahi, che non pur rispondi! Ahi, che più d’aspe è sordo a’ miei lamenti!
Let me die; Why would you want to comfort me in such a harsh fate in such a great martyrdom? Just let me die. Oh Theseus, Oh my Theseus, although I want to call you mine more than you are really mine, Although you have vanished, ah cruel man! Come back, my Theseus. Oh God! Turn back to see the one who gave up her homeland and reign just for you, and on these sands will leave her bare bones as food for wild beasts. Oh, Theseus, if you only knew, knew, oh god! Alas,, if you only knew the terrible fear poor Alas Ariadne is suffering suffering,, perhaps you would relent and point your prow back to the shore. But with soft breezes, you sail away, away, happy while I lament here. Athena is preparing a superb celebration for you, and I will become food for beasts on these lonely sands. You will joyfully embrace your happy aged parents, but, oh mother, oh father, I will never see you again. Where is the faithfulness That you swore to me so much? much ? Is this how you set me on the high throne of your ancestors? Are these the crowns with which you adorn my locks? Are these the scepters, the jewels and the gold; leaving me abandoned for the wild beast to tear and devour? Ah, my Theseus, will you let her die, weeping and calling in vain for help, wretched Ariadne that trusted you and gave you glory and saved your very life? Alas, he doesn’t even answer! Alas, he is deafer than a snake to my cries!
O nembi, O turbi, O venti, Sommergetelo voi dentr’a Correte, orchequell’onde! e balene, E delle membra immonde Empiete le voragini profonde! Che parlo, ahi, che vaneggio? Misera, oimè, che chieggio? O Teseo, O Teseo mio, Non son, non son quell’io, Non son quell’io che ì feri detti sciolse; Parlò l’affanno mio, parlò il dolore, Parlò la lingua, sì, ma non già il core. Misera! Ancor dò loco a la tradita speme? E non si spegne, Fra tanto scherno ancor ancor,, d’amor Il foco spegni tu morte, omai, le amme indegne!
O Madre, O Padre, O dell’antico Regno superbi alberghi, Ov’ebbi d’or la cuna, O servi, O di amici (ahi fato indegno!)
Mirate ove m’ha scort’empia fortuna, Mirate di che duol m’ha fatto herede L’amor mio, la mia fede, E l’altrui inganno, Così va chi tropp’ama e troppo crede.
Oh clouds, storms, winds! Bury beneath waves! Hurry,him you whales those and sea monsters, and ll your deep whirlpools with his lthy limbs! But what am I saying? Why do I rage so? Alas, wretch that I am, w hat am I asking for? Oh, my Theseus, it is not me, I am not the one who uttered those terrible words; It was my breathless fear and pain that tha t spoke; My tongue may have spoken, but not my heart. Wretch! I still give in to my betrayed hope, and it is not extinguished. Amidst such scorn still the re of love? Extinguish, oh Death, those unworthy ames. Oh mother, oh father, oh lofty palaces of the ancient realm, where I was raised! Oh servants and faithful friends admire where cruel fate has brought me! See the sorrow I have inherited from my love, my faithfulness and his betrayal. That happens to her who w ho loves too much and believes too much!
Translation Trans lation by Mariangela Chatzistamatiou
Francesco Cavalli (1602-1676) Libretto by Giovanni Francesco Busenello (1598-1659) From Gli amori d’Apollo e di Dafne (Opera in a prologue and three acts)
Act I- Scene 8 (Procri Sola) Procri, alone seeks the return of her lover, Cefalo, who once loved her. She realizes that she is no longer the same person since Cefalo’s betrayal. betrayal. Why should the gods seek lovers on earth, she asks; can Olympus be so lacking in the lovable? She pleads for Cefalo to return to her, as jealousy leads her to curses and anger anger.. Her laments go out to the woods and the desert places; sorrow is too much when it is silent. Come back, please come back to me, You handsome assassin of my faith! I beg you: come back to me, Oh traitor! For I no longer hope that you withdrew your heart from me, that you have found a new love that you pray. I am always this Procris, which was the delight of your love. Alas, I’m wrong, I am not anymore! Come back, come back senses handsome assassin of to myyour loyalt loyalty! y! I beg you, come back to me because I can no longer hope. I am always the same Procris, that was the delight of your love. Alas, I’m wrong, I am not anymore! In you I breathe my twilight and my desperate desire to see you destroys my heart. And yet I love you more: Although you have torn my heart apart. Cephalus, come back to me, I am the one who was your beloved! Alas, I’m wrong, I am not anymore! JealousyBoth forces me towards profanity and rage. religion and respect repress my tears at the bottom of my heart. Hell has no greater evil than mine: I am damned, but I cannot curse! Cephalus, come back to me, I am the one who was your idol; Alas, I’m wrong, I am not anymore! Excessive is the pain when you are silent.
Translation by Mariangela Chatzistamatiou
enlightenment, n. Pronunciation: U.S. /ɛnˈlaɪtnm(ə)/ a. The action of bringing someone to a state of greater knowledge, understanding, or insight; the state of being enlightened in this way way.. Also: an instance of this. rare before 19th century. b. spec. Usu. with capital initial. The action or process of hfreeing human understanding from the accepted and customary beliefs sanctioned by traditional, esp. religious, authority, chiefly by rational and scientific inquiry into all aspects of human life, which became a characteristic goal of philosophical writing in the late 17th and 18th centuries. Freq. in the Age of Enlightenment. “enlightenment, n.” OED Online. March 2011. Oxford University Press. http://0-www. oed.com.maurice.bgsu.edu/view/Entry/62448?rskey=2WDfoy&result=5&isAdvanced= false (accessed March 28, 2011). 2011).
Bilitis A fictional character created by French poet and writer Pierre Louÿs presented in his book Chansons de Bilitis published in Paris in 1894. Each of the three poems that Debussy chose to set, represents a phase of the life of Bilitis and in a bigger picture, of an average woman: 1.Childhood and first sexual encounters 2.indulgence in mature sexuality 3. maturity and lonelyness Pierre Louÿs. Les Chansons De Bilitis. Paris: Librairie Charpentier Et Fasquelle, 1926.
“The restraint that Ravel shows when evoking evoking a past style within the Western musical tradition gives way to a more open sensuality in his exotic works, when fantasy
rather than homage is involved... The poems of the rst and third of the Chansons madécasses project an archetypal Western image of the Oriental woman , at once both mute servant and enigmatic object of desire; the sensuous atmosphere is established at the opening of the rst song by the weaving ute line and the oscillating minor 2nds in
the vocal part. But that Rav Ravel el was not entirely blind to the political realities of colonialism is suggested by his choice, for the second song, of a text dealing with the extermination of a treacherous settler who had tried to destroy the Madagascan people and their customs. His identication with the poem, denounced by one member of the audience at
the première as unpatriotic, is evident from the violence of the setting. Ravel Ravel here drops his usual reserve: 2nd and 7th dissonances are freely employed, along with sections of bitonality, while the word ‘aoua’, an addition Ravel made to the text himself, is used as a refrain throughout, almost in the manner of a war cry.”
Barbara L. Kelly. “Ravel, Maurice.” In Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online, http://0-www.oxfo http://0-www .oxfordmusiconline.com.maurice.bg rdmusiconline.com.maurice.bgsu.edu/subscriber/article/gr su.edu/subscriber/article/grove/muove/music/52145 (accessed March 30, 2011).
Maurice Ravel (1875-1937) Evariste Desire de Forges Parny (1753-1814) Chansons madécasses *Three songs by Ravel (written in 1925-26), to texts by Evariste Désiré de Forges Parny (1753 - 1814). They were written to a commission by Elizabeth Sprague-Coolidge, and are dedicated to her. The songs are scored for voice, ute, cello and piano (usually sung by a mezzo-soprano but baritones have also taken them into their repertoire). At the rst performance (at the American Academy Academy in Rome on 8th May 1926) the soloist was Jane Bathori.
Nahandove
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove! L’oiseau nocturne a commencé ses cris, la pleine lune brille sur ma tête, et la rosée naissante humecte mes cheveux. Voici Vo ici l’heure: qui peut t’arrêter t’arrêter,, Nahahndove, ô belle Nahandove!
Nahandove, oh beautiful Nahandove! The night bird has begun to sing, the full moon shines overhead,
Le lit de feuilles est préparé;
The bed of leaves is ready;
je l’ai parsemé de eurs et d’herbes odoriférantes;
I have strewn owers and aromatic herbs;
il est digne de tes charmes. Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
it is worthy of your charms, oh beautiful Nahandove!
Elle vient. J’ai reconnu la respiration précipitée que donne une marche rapide; j’entends le froissement de la pagne qui l’enveloppe; c’est elle, c’est Nahandove, la belle Nahandove!
She is coming. I recognise the rapid breathing of someone walking quickly; I hear the rustle of her skirt. It is she, it is the beautiful Nahandove!
Reprends haleine, ma jeune amie; repose-toi sur mes genoux. Que ton regard est enchanteur! Que le mouvement de ton sein est vif et délicieux sous la main qui le presse! Tu souris, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Catch your breath, my young sweetheart; rest on my lap. How enchanting your gaze is, how lively and delightful the motion of your breast as my hand presses it! You smile, oh beautiful Nahandove!
Tes baisers pénètrent jusqu’à l’âme; tes caresses brûlent tous mes sens; arrête, ou je vais mourir. Meurt-on de volupté, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove?
Your kisses reach into my soul; your caresses burn all my senses. Stop or I will die! Can one die of ecstasy? Oh beautiful Nahandove!
Le plaisir passe comme un éclair. Ta douce haleine s’affaiblit, tes yeux humides se referment, ta tête se penche mollement, et tes transports s’éteignent dans la langueur. Jamais tu ne fus si belle, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Pleasure passes like lightning; your sweet breathing becomes calmer calmer,, your moist eyes close again, your head droops, and your raptures fade into weariness. Never were you so beautiful, oh beautiful Nahandove!
Tu pars, et je vais languir dans les regrets et les désirs. Je languirai jusqu’au soir soir.. Tu reviendras ce soir, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Now you are leaving, and I will languish in sadness and desires. I will languish until sunset. You will return this evening, oh beautiful Nahandove!
and the rst dew is moistening my hair.
Now is the time: who can be delaying you? Oh beautiful Nahandove!
*”Maurice Ravel Frontispice - Chansons Madécasses.” Maurice Ravel Frontispice. Web. 30 Mar. 2011. <http:// www.maurice-ravel.net/chansons.htm>.
Aoua! Aoua! Aoua! Méez-vous des Blancs,
habitants du rivage rivage.. Du temps de nos pères, des Blancs descendirent dans cette île. On leur dit: Voil Voilà à des terres, que vos femmes les cultivent; soyez justes, soyez bons, et devenez nos frères.
Awa! Awa! Do not trust the white men, you shore-dwellers! In our fathers’ day, white men came to this island. “Here is some land,” they were told, “your women may cultivate it. Be just, be kind, and become our brothers.”
Les Blancs promirent, et cependant ils faisaient des retranchements.
The whites promised, and all the while they were making entrenchments.
Un fort menaçant s’éleva; le tonnerre fut renfermé dans des bouches d’airain; leurs prêtres voulurent nous donner un Dieu que nous ne connaissons pas, ils parlèrent enn
d’obéissance et d’esclavage d’esclavage.. Plutôt la mort. Le carnage fut long et terrible; mais malgré la foudre qu’ils vormissaient, et qui écrasait des armées ar mées entières, ils furent tous exterminés. Aoua! Aoua! Méez-vous des Blancs!
Nous avons vu de nouveaux tyrans, plus forts et plus nombreaux, planter leur pavillon sur le rivage: le ciel a combattu pour nous; il a at tomber sur eux les pluies,
les tempêtes et les vents empoisonnes. Ils ne sont plus, et nous vivons, et nous vivons libres. Aoua! Méez-vous des Blancs,
habitants du rivage rivage..
They menacing fort, and theybuilt heldathunder captive in brass cannon; their priests tried to give us a God we did not know; and later they spoke of obedience and slavery. slavery. Death would be preferable! The carnage was long and terrible; but despite their vomiting thunder which crushed whole armies, they were all wiped out. Awa! Awa! Do not trust the white men! We saw new tyrants, stronger and more numerous, pitching tents on the shore. Heaven fought for us. It caused rain, tempests and poison winds to fall on them. They are dead, and we live, we live free! Awa! A wa! Awa! Awa! Do not trust the white men, you shore-dwellers!
Il est doux
Il est doux de se coucher, durant la chaleur, sous un arbre touffu, et d’attendre que le vent du soir
It is sweet in the hot afternoon to lie under a leafy tree and wait for the evening breeze to bring
amème la fraîcheur fraîc heur..
coolness.
Femmes, approchez. Tandis que je me repose ici sous un arbre touffu, occupez mon oreille par vos accents prolongés.
Come, women! While I rest here under a leafy tree, ll my ears with your sustained tones.
Répétez la chanson de la jeune lle, lorsque ses
Sing again the song of the girl plaiting her hair hair,, or the
doigts tressent la natte ou lorsqu’assise auprès du riz, elle chasse les oiseaux avides.
girl sitting near the riceeld
chasing away the greedy birds.
Le chant plaît à mon âme. La danse est pour moi presque aussi douce qu’un baiser. Que vos pas soient lents; qu’ils imitent les attitudes du plaisir et l’abandon de la volupté.
Singing pleases my soul; and dancing is nearly as sweet as a kiss. Tread slowly, and make your steps suggest the postures of pleasure and ecstatic abandonment.
Le vent du soir se lève; la lune commence à briller au travers des arbres de la montagne.
The breeze is starting to blow; the moon glistens through the mountain trees.
Allez, et préparez le repas.
Go and prepare the evening meal Translations by Peter Low
Claude Debussy (1862-1918) Poetry: Pierre Louÿs (1870-1925)
Chansons de Bilitis 3 settings by Debussy, Debussy, 1897– 8, for v. and pf. pf. of prose-poems by Pierre Louÿs. They are La Flûte de Pan, La Chevelure and Tombeau des Naïades. Orch. version 1926 by by Delage. Incidental mus. for 2 ., 2 hp., and celesta to acc. recitation of poems, 1900; arr. arr. Boulez for reciter, reciter, 2 hp., 2 ., and celesta 1954. “Chansons de Bilitis.” In The Oxford Dictionary of Music, M usic, 2nd ed. rev., edited by Michael Kennedy. Oxford Music Online, http://0-www.oxfordmusiconhttp://0-www.oxfordmusiconline.com.maurice.bgsu.edu/subscriber/article/opr/t237/e2006 line.com.maurice.bgsu. edu/subscriber/article/opr/t237/e2006 (accessed March 30, 2011).
La ûte de Pan
Pour le jour des Hyacinthies, Il m’a donné une syrinx faite De roseaux bien taillés, Unis avec la blanche cire Qui est douce à mes lèvres comme le miel. Il m’apprend à jouer jouer,, assise sur ses genoux; Mais je suis un peu tremblante. Il en joue après moi, si doucement Que je l’entends à peine. Nous n’avons rien à nous dire, Tant nous sommes près l’un de l’autre; Mais nos chansons veulent se répondre, Et tour à tour nos bouches S’unissent sur la ûte.
Il est tard; Voici le chant des grenouilles vertes Qui commence avec la nuit. Ma mère ne croira jamais Que je suis restée si longtemps A chercher ma ceinture perdue.
For the festival of Hyacinthus he gave me a syrinx, a set of pipes made from well-cut reeds joined with the white wax that is sweet to my lips like honey. He is teaching teachin g me to play, as I sit on his knees; but I tremble a little. He plays it after me, so softly that I can scarcely hear it. We are so close that we have nothing to say to one another; but our songs want to converse, and our mouths are joined as they take turns on the pipes. It is late: here comes the chant of the green frogs, which begins at dusk. My mother will never believe I spent so long searching for my lost waistband.
La Chevelure
Il m’a dit: “Cette nuit, j’ai rêvé. J’avais ta chevelure autour de mon cou. J’avais tes cheveux comme un collier noir Autour de ma nuque et sur ma poitrine. Je les caressais, et c’étaient les miens; Et nous étions liés pour toujours ainsi, Par la même chevelure, la bouche sur la l a bouche, Ainsi que deux lauriers n’ont souvent qu’une racine. Et peu à peu, il m’a semblé. Tant Ta nt nos membres étaient confondus, con fondus, Que je devenais toi-même, Ou que tu entrais en moi m oi comme mon songe.” Quand il eut achevé, Il mit doucement ses mains sur mes épaules, Et il me regarda d’un regard si tendre,Que je baissai les yeux avec un frisson.
He told me: “Last night I had a dream. Your hair was around my neck, it was like a black necklace around my nape and on my chest. c hest. “I was stroking your hair, and it was my own; thus the same tresses joined us forever, with our mouths touching, just as two laurels often have only one root. “And gradually I sensed, since our limbs were so entwined, that I was becoming you and you were entering me like my dream.” When he’d nished,
he gently put his hands on my shoulders, and gazed at me so tenderly that I lowered my eyes, quivering.
Le Tombeau des Naïades
Le long du bois couvert de givre, je marchais; Mes cheveux devant ma bouche Se eurissaient de petits glaçons,
Et mes sandales étaient lourdes De neige fangeuse et tassée. Il me dit: “Que cherches-tu?” Je suis la trace du satyre. Ses petits pas fourchus alternent Comme des trous dans un manteau blanc. Il me dit: “Les satyres sont morts. “Les satyres et les nymphes aussi. Depuis trente ans, il n’a pas fait un hiver hi ver aussi terrible. La trace que tu vois est celle d’un bouc. Mais restons ici, où est leur tombeau.” Et avec le fer de sa houe il cassa la glace De la source ou jadis riaient les naïades. Il prenait de grands morceaux froids, Es les soulevant vers le ciel pâle, Il regardait au travers.
I was walking along in the frost-cover frost-covered ed woods; in front of my mouth my hair blossomed in tiny icicles, and my sandals were heavy with muddy caked snow. He asked: “What are you looking for?” “I’m following the tracks of the satyr his little cloven hoofprints alternate like holes in a white cloak.” He said: “The satyrs are dead. “The satyrs are dead, and the nymphs too. In thirty years there has not been such a terrible winter. That’s the trail of a he-goat. But let’s pause here, where their tomb is.” With his hoe he broke the ice of the spring where the water-nymphs water-nymphs used to laugh. There he was, picking up large cold slabs of ice, lifting them towa toward rd the pale sky, and peering through them. Bilitis translations by Peter Low
“What you have done with my Bilitis (poems) is dede lightfully good, you cannot imagine the pleasure they give me.” (Pierre Louÿs to Claude Debussy)
Kurt Weill: (1900-1950) Words by Roger Fernay Youkali: Tango Habanera (1935)
Wandering at the will of the sea My vagabond bark Led me to the end of the world It’s quite a small island But the sprite who dwells there Politely invites us To tour it Youkali Is the land of our desires Youkali It means happiness and pleasure; Youkali It is the land where we leave cares behind It is the beacon in our clouded c louded night The star we follo follow w It’s Youka It’s oukalili And life drags us along Tedious and banal Yet the poor human soul Seeking oblivion everywhere Knew how, in leaving this earth, To nd the th e mystery Where our dreams are buried In some Youkali Youkali Is the land of our desires Youkali It means happiness and pleasure; Youkali It is the land where we leave cares behind It is star the beacon inw our clouded c louded night The we follo follow It’s Youkali.
Translation by Susan Grayson
C’est presqu’au bout du monde Ma barque vagabonde Errant au gré de l’onde M’y conduisit un jour L’île est toute petite Mais la fée que l’habite Gentiment nous invite A en faire le tour. Youkali C’est le pays de nos désirs Youkali C’est le bonheur, c’est le plaisir C’est la terre où l’on quitte tous lesYoukali soucis C’est, dans notre nuit, comme une éclaircie L’étoile qu’on suit C’est Youkali Youkali C’est le respect de tous les voeux échangés Youkali c’est le pays des beaux amours partagés C’est l’espérance Qui est au coeur de tous les humains La délivrance Que nous attendons tous pour demain Youkali C’est le pays de nos désirs Youkali C’est le bonheur, c’est le plaisir Mais c’est un rêve, une folie Il n’y a pas de Youkali Et la vie nous entraîne Lassante, quotidienne Mais la pauvre âme humaine Cherchant partout l’oubli A, pour quitter la terre Se trouver le mystère où rêves se terrent en quelque Youkali
