Sento, sent' un rumor (Andrea Gabrieli): Difference between revisions
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*{{PostedDate|2018-11-15}} {{CPDLno|51996}} [[Media:22-gabrieli--sento_un_rumor--alla_battaglia--comb--0-score.pdf|{{pdf}}]] | *{{PostedDate|2018-11-15}} {{CPDLno|51996}} [[Media:22-gabrieli--sento_un_rumor--alla_battaglia--comb--0-score.pdf|{{pdf}}]] | ||
{{Editor|Allen Garvin|2018-11-15}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|12|207}}{{Copy|Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial}} | {{Editor|Allen Garvin|2018-11-15}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|12|207}}{{Copy|Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial}} | ||
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*{{PostedDate|2003-10-22}} {{CPDLno|5834}} [[Media:ws-gaba-sen.pdf|{{Pdf}}]] [[Media:ws-gaba-sen.mid|{{Mid}}]] [[Media:ws-gaba-sen.sib|{{sib}}]] (Sibelius 2) | *{{PostedDate|2003-10-22}} {{CPDLno|5834}} [[Media:ws-gaba-sen.pdf|{{Pdf}}]] [[Media:ws-gaba-sen.mid|{{Mid}}]] [[Media:ws-gaba-sen.sib|{{sib}}]] (Sibelius 2) |
Revision as of 17:05, 12 April 2021
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- Editor: Allen Garvin (submitted 2018-11-15). Score information: Letter, 12 pages, 207 kB Copyright: CC BY NC
- Edition notes:
- Editor: Steven Langley Guy (submitted 2003-10-22). Score information: A4, 17 pages, 160 kB Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes: written in original C clefs
General Information
Title: Sento, sent' un rumor
Composer: Andrea Gabrieli
Number of voices: 8vv Voicing: SSAATTBB
Genre: Secular, Madrigal
Language: Italian
Instruments: basso per l'organo
First published: 1587 in Concerti di Andrea et di Giovanni Gabrieli, no. 2.66
Description:
External websites:
Original text and translations
Italian text
Sento, sent’un rumor ch’al ciel si estolle
E turba l’aria e fa tremar la terra;
Quest’è’l nemico nostro, invido e folle,
Ch’ad hor ne chiama a sanguinosa guerra,
E, scorrendo veloce il piano e’l colle
Preda i beni e i muri atterra.
All’arme ognuno! All’arme gridi!.
E il tambur chiocchi e l’aversario sfidi.
Alla battaglia, o foti cavalieri,
Venite tutti meco ardidamente
E de’ nemici nostri audaci e fieri
Domiam col ferro l’orgliosa mente.
Sù, trombette, suonate!.
“Fan fari rari raron fan”.
E voi guerrieri ferite e amazzate
La vil gente; che, vinta con suo danno,
E nostra gloria,
A noi lascia fuggendo la vittoria.