Sufficiebat nobis paupertas nostra (Jean Richafort)

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  • (Posted 2019-03-16)  CPDL #53583:     
Editor: Andrew Fysh (submitted 2019-03-16).   Score information: A4, 6 pages   Copyright: CC BY SA
Edition notes: At original pitch. Original note values retained in Superius part only; note values halved in other parts (see Editorial Notes in score). Transcribed and edited from the Attaingnant's 1534 publication and three other earlier hand-copied sources as acknowledged in the Editorial Notes. Text of Hayne's chanson Mon souvenir, whose Tenor line is used as the Superius line here, is included for historical context only.

General Information

Title: Sufficiebat nobis paupertas nostra
Composer: Jean Richafort
Lyricist: Tobit 5:24–26 and 10:4create page

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: ATBB

Genre: SacredMotet

Language: Latin
Instruments: A cappella

{{Published}} is obsolete (code commented out), replaced with {{Pub}} for works and {{PubDatePlace}} for publications.

Description: Many sources of this work pre-date Attaingnant's 1534 collection, suggesting that Richafort might have composed it while serving in the French Royal Chapel in the 1510s. The marking Mon souvenir in Attaingnant's Superius partbook acknowledges Richafort's having employed the Tenor line of Mon souvenir me fait mourir by Hayne van Ghizeghem, a prolific chanson composer of the late 15th century. The text (from from the deuterocanonical Book of Tobit) is a Responsory for Ember Friday of September. The only other known setting, by Jacquet of Mantua (1483–1559), also appears in the Rusconi Codex [1518] and is based on the same chanson.

External websites:

Original text and translations

Latin.png Latin text

Sufficiébat nobis paupértas nostra, ut divítiæ computaréntur:
numquam fuísset pecúnia ipsa, pro qua misísti fílium nostrum,
báculum senectútis nostræ!
Heu me, fili mi, ut quid te mísimus peregrinári,
lumen oculórum nostrórum?
Báculum senectútis nostræ!

English.png English translation

Our poverty was enough for us, that it might have been accounted riches.
O that the money had never been, for which thou hast sent away our son,
the staff of our old age!
Alas, my son, wherefore have we sent thee wandering,
even thee, the light of our eyes?
The staff of our old age!