A quest'olmo (Claudio Monteverdi)

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(Posted 2014-06-15) CPDL #32267:

Vocal score:

Score information: A4, 12 pages, 257 kB Copyright: CPDL

Instrumental parts:

Score information: A4, 9 pages, 106 kB Copyright: CPDL

Editor: Peter Rottländer (submitted 2014-06-15). Score information: A4, 13 pages, 288 kB Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: Original key.

(Posted 2014-06-15) CPDL #32266:

Vocal score:

Score information: A4, 12 pages, 264 kB Copyright: CPDL

Instrumental parts:

Score information: A4, 9 pages, 104 kB Copyright: CPDL

Editor: Peter Rottländer (submitted 2014-06-15). Score information: A4, 13 pages, 293 kB Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: A fourth down according to chiavette convention.

(Posted 2009-03-14) CPDL #19048:

Editor: Björn Sothmann (submitted 2009-03-14). Score information: A4, 21 pages, 1.07 MB Copyright: CC BY-SA 3.0 Unported

Edition notes:

General Information

Title: A quest'olmo

Composer: Claudio Monteverdi
Lyricist: Giambattista Marino

Number of voices: 6vv Voicing: SSATTB
Genre: Secular, Madrigal

Language: Italian
Instruments: 2 violins, 2 recorders, Basso continuo

First published: 1619 in Concerto: settimo libro de madrigali (Claudio Monteverdi), no. 3
Description:

External websites:

==Original text and translations==

Italian text

A quest’olmo, a quest’ombre ed a quest’onde
ove per uso ancor torno sovente,
eterno i’ deggio, ed avrò sempre in mente,
quest’antro, questa selva e queste fronde.

In voi sol, felici acque, amiche sponde,
il mio passato ben quasi presente
Amor mi mostra, e del mio foco ardente
tra le vostre fresch’aure i semi asconde.

Qui di quel lieto dì soave riede
la rimembranza, allor che la mia Clori
tutta in dono se stessa e’l cor mi diede;

già spirar sento erbette intorno e fiori,
ovunque o fermi il guardo o mova il piede,
dell’antiche dolcezze ancor gli honori.

English translation

That poplar tree, the shade and the lake,
where I still often return,
eternal duty, I shall never forget
that refuge, that wood and the verdure.

In you, sun, happy water, welcoming shores,
Love shows me my almost present past,
and from my ardent fire,
amongst your fresh auras the seeds are concealed.

From that sad and gentle day come
memories of Cloris, my love,
succumbing her body and soul;

I still feel the murmur of the grass and the flowers,
wherever I turn to look and wherever I stand,
and the traces of erstwhile sweetness.