Ite, rime dolenti (Philippe de Monte): Difference between revisions

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Piacciale al mio passar esser accorta,  
Piacciale al mio passar esser accorta,  
Ch'è presso omai; siami a l'incontro,e quale
Ch'è presso omai; siami a l'incontro,e quale
Ella è nel cielo a sé mi tiri e chiame.  
Ella è nel cielo a sé mi tiri e chiame.}}
}}
''Canzoniere 333''
''Canzoniere 333''
{{mdl}}
{{mdl}}
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Let it please her to watch for my passing,
Let it please her to watch for my passing,
that is near now: let us meet together, and her
that is near now: let us meet together, and her
draw me, and call me, to what she is in heaven.
draw me, and call me, to what she is in heaven.}}
}}
tr. [[Anthony S. Kline]]
tr. [[Anthony S. Kline]]
{{btm}}
{{btm}}
[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Sheet music]]
[[Category:Renaissance music]]
[[Category:Renaissance music]]

Revision as of 18:03, 8 February 2015

Music files

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Editor: Willem Verkaik (submitted 2014-12-09).   Score information: Letter, 4 pages, 434 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Ite, rime dolenti
Composer: Philippe de Monte
Lyricists: Francesco Petrarca and Anthony S. Kline (translator)

Number of voices: 5vv   Voicing: SATTB

Genre: SecularMadrigal

Language: Italian
Instruments: A cappella

Published:

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

Italian.png Italian text

Ite, rime dolenti, al duro sasso,
Che'l mio caro thesoro in terra asconde,
Ivi chiamate chi dal ciel risponde,
Ben che'l mortal sia in loco oscuro e basso.

Ditele ch'i' son già di viver lasso,
Del navigar per queste horribili onde;
Ma ricogliendo le sue sparte fronde,
Dietro le vo pur così passo passo,

Sol di lei ragionando viva e morta,
Anzi pur viva, et or fatta immortale,
A ciò che'l mondo la conosca et ame.

Piacciale al mio passar esser accorta,
Ch'è presso omai; siami a l'incontro,e quale
Ella è nel cielo a sé mi tiri e chiame.

Canzoniere 333

English.png English translation

My sad verse, go to the harsh stone
that hides my precious treasure in the earth,
call to her there, she will reply from heaven,
though her mortal part is in a low, dark place.

Say to her I’m already tired of living,
of navigating through these foul waves:
but gathering up the scattered leaves,
step by step, like this, I follow her,

only I go speaking of her, living and dead,
yet alive, and made immortal now,
so that the world can know of her, and love her.

Let it please her to watch for my passing,
that is near now: let us meet together, and her
draw me, and call me, to what she is in heaven.

tr. Anthony S. Kline