Quando signor lasciaste entro a le rive (Cipriano de Rore): Difference between revisions

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  • (Posted 2018-11-15)  CPDL #52037:   
Editor: Allen Garvin (submitted 2018-11-15).   Score information: Letter, 5 pages, 131 kB   Copyright: CC BY NC
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Quando signor lasciate entro a le rive
Composer: Cipriano de Rore
Lyricist:

Number of voices: 5vv   Voicing: Unknown

Genre: SecularMadrigal

Language: Italian
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1557 in Il quarto libro de madrigali a cinque voci, no. 7

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

Italian.png Italian text

Quando, signor, lasciast’ entro a le rive
Mesto il fiume più bel ch’Italia bagne,
Restar gl’arbori tutti et le campagne
Di fior, di frond’ e di vaghezza prive,
La figlia di Latona e le compagne
Dire s’udiro d’ogni gioia schive.
Perchè da noi, signor, hor ti scompagne?
Perchè del maggior ben nostro ne prive?

Ma poi che vostra altezza a noi ritorna
Ripiglian l’honor suo gl’arbor, le valli,
E festa fan tutte le Nimphe insieme.
Alza dal molle suo lieto le corna
Il Po e, ripieno di leggiadra speme,
Si gode a pien tra i suoi puri cristalli.

German.png German translation

Als Ihr, Herr, zwischen seinen Ufern
Traurig zurückließt den schönsten Fluss, der Italien badet,
blieben alle Bäume und die Felder zurück,
der Blüten, Blättern und Schönheit benommen,
Latona‘s Tochter [Diana] und ihre Gefährtinnen,
sind, wie man hört, jeglicher Freude abhold.
Warum verlässt du uns jetzt, Herr?
Warum nimmst du unser höchstes Gut?

Aber nun, da Eure Hoheit zu uns zurückkehrt,
nehmen seine Ehre wieder auf die Bäume, die Täler,
und Feste feiern alle Nymphen zusammen.
Freudig erhebt aus seinem nassen Element die Hörner
der Po und, erfüllt mit freudiger Hoffnung,
ergötzt er sich völlig inmitten seiner klaren Kristalle.

Translation by Gerhard Weydt
English.png English translation

When you, my lord, left between its banks
melancholy the most beautiful river that waters Italy,
all trees and the fields were left
bereft of their flowers, their leaves and their beauty,
Latona’s daughter [Diana] and her companions
were said to be avers to all joy.
Why, my lord, do you leave us now?
Why do you bereave us of our highest felicity?

But now that your Highness returns to us,
the trees and the valleys resume his honour,
and all the nymphs together do feast.
Merrily out of his waters the Po
raises its horns and, full of joyful hope,
totally rejoices in the midst o his pure crystals.

Translation by Gerhard Weydt