Faith: Chorus from Euripides' Hippolytos (Jon Corelis)
- (Posted 2011-09-11) CPDL #24445:
- Editor: Jon Corelis (submitted 2011-09-11). Score information: Letter, 3 pages, 68 kB Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes:
First published: 2011
Description: A sung chorus from my play EURIPIDES’ HIPPOLYTOS: a modern performance version in verse with music. In this play the choral odes are set to music adapted from the medieval secular repertory; here, the melody is from the song A chantar m'er de so qu'eu no volria by La Comtessa de Dia. My translation of the lyrics from the Greek is necessarily rather free, but is close enough to be recognizable as a translation. This score is for unaccompanied a cappella female voice: the number of singers, division of parts, and possible accompaniment are left to be decided by performers at production. In this sound file, synth female la-la voice is used to simulate the vocal. The sound file on this Choralwiki site gives only the first two choruses; for a complete sound file, please see the External Links sections below. The entire play is also available at the link given in that section.. The lyrics are below.
Original text and translations
Without my faith in heaven I could not live,
without believing there are gods who care,
who from their far untroubled home still give
some meaning to this pain that everywhere
rules over this uncaring chaos, life;
through all its random wounds the gods must weave
some pattern we may see if we believe.
I will not beg the gods for wealth or fame,
but for a heart unstained by bitterness;
to live unthreatened by the praise or blame
which both lead mighty houses to distress,
to bring to each day’s dawning such a mind
as will enable me to live that day,
and let tomorrow bring what grief it may.
Yet how may I keep faith now I have seen
the noblest house of Hellas brought so low?
O mountain meadow cloaked in leafy green,
O Virgin Lady of the Silver Bow
and coastal course-way where you are enshrined,
your most devoted lover will no more
rejoice in beauties of your woods and shore.
No more his chariot wheels will trace the ground
along the endless ocean’s fringe of sand;
no more, no more the songful lyre will sound
within his father’s hall by his skilled hand,
and girls with secret dreams to be the wife
who teaches such a man what love can be,
are weeping for a dream they’ll never see.
O ruined prince, O vanished purity:
how can the gods allow such things to be?