Recital: Lina Chung '21 BM, Soprano

Vieni, o mio diletto

Vieni, vieni, o mio diletto
Che il mio core tutto affetto
Gia t'aspetta e ogn'or ti chiama.
Il mio core tutto affetto
Gia t'aspetta e gia ti chiama.

Anonymous

Come, o my delight

Come, come, o my delight,
For my heart, full of affection,
Already awaits you and calls to you always.
My heart, full of affection,
Already awaits you and already calls to you.

Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust, from the LiederNet Archive; https://www.lieder.net/

Sposa son disprezzata

Sposa son disprezzata,
fida son oltraggiata,
cieli che feci mai?
E pur egl'è il mio cor
il mio sposo, il mio amor,
la mia speranza.

Agostino Piovene

As a wife, I am scorned

As a wife I am scorned,
A faithful woman, I am insulted.
Heavens, what have I done?
And yet he is my heart,
my husband, my love,
my hope.

Translation by Lina Chung

Der Jäger

Mein Lieb ist ein Jäger,
Und grün ist sein Kleid,
Und blau ist sein Auge,
Nur sein Herz ist zu weit.

Mein Lieb ist ein Jäger,
Trifft immer ins Ziel,
Und Mädchen berückt er,
So viel er nur will.

Mein Lieb ist ein Jäger,
Kennt Wege und Spur,
Zu mir aber kommt er
Durch die Kirchtüre nur!

Friedrich Halm

The huntsman

My love’s a huntsman,
And he dresses in green,
And his eyes are blue,
But his heart’s too open.

My love’s a huntsman,
Never misses his mark,
And he bewitches girls,
As many as he will.

My love’s a huntsman,
Knows tracks and trails,
But he’ll only come to me
Through the church door. 

Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder-www.oxfordlieder.co.uk

Der Frühling

Es lockt und säuselt um den Baum:
Wach auf aus deinem Schlaf und Traum,
Der Winter ist zerronnen.
Da schlägt er frisch den Blick empor,
Die Augen sehen hell hervor
Ans goldne Licht der Sonnen.

Es zieht ein Wehen sanft und lau,
Geschaukelt in dem Wolkenbau
Wie Himmelsduft hernieder.
Da werden alle Blumen wach,
Da tönt der Vögel schmelzend Ach,
Da kehrt der Frühling wieder.

Es zuckt und bebt im Blute was,
Die Wimpern werden tränennaß,
Es pochet leis im Herzen.
O Mensch, du fühlest Frühlingslust,
Und Liebe hebet deinen Ernst,
Und wecket süße Schmerzen!

Es weht der Wind den Blütenstaub
Von Kelch zu Kelch, von Laub zu Laub,
Durch Tage und durch Nächte.
Flieg auch, mein Herz, und flattre fort,
Such hier ein Herz und such es dort,
Du triffst vielleicht das Rechte.

Johann Baptist Rousseau
 

Spring

The wind entices and murmurs about the tree:
Awaken from your sleep and your dream,
The winter has thawed.
It casts its gaze briskly upward,
Its eyes look brightly upon
The golden light of the sun.

A gentle, warm breeze wafts
and rocks in the mass of clouds,
Downward like the fragrance of heaven.
Then all the flowers awaken,
The little birds sing melting sighs,
And Spring returns once more.

Something starts and shakes in the blood,
The eyelashes become wet with tears;
There is a gentle throbbing in the heart.
O Man, you feel the joy of Spring,
And Love lifts you from your seriousness,
And wakes such sweet pain!

The wind wafts the pollen
From calyx to calyx, from leaf to leaf,
Throughout the day and throughout the night.
Fly also, my heart, and flutter forth,
Search here and search there for another heart.  Perhaps you will meet the right one.

Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust, from the LiederNet Archive; https://www.lieder.net/

Heimweh II

O wüsst ich doch den Weg zurück,
Den lieben Weg zum Kinderland!
O warum sucht ich nach dem Glück
Und ließ der Mutter Hand?

O wie mich sehnet auszuruhn,
Von keinem Streben aufgeweckt,
Die müden Augen zuzutun,
Von Liebe sanft bedeckt!

Und nichts zu forschen, nichts zu spähn,
Und nur zu träumen leicht und lind;
Der Zeiten Wandel nicht zu sehn,
Zum zweiten Mal ein Kind!

O zeigt mir doch den Weg zurück,
Den lieben Weg zum Kinderland!
Vergebens such ich nach dem Glück,
Ringsum ist öder Strand!

Klaus Groth

Homesickness

Ah! if I but knew the way back,
The sweet way back to childhood’s land!
Ah! why did I seek my fortune
And let go of my mother’s hand?

Ah! how I long for utter rest,
Not to be roused by any striving,
Long to close my weary eyes,
Gently shrouded by love!

And search for nothing, watch for nothing,
Dream only light and gentle dreams,
Not to see the times change,
To be a child a second time!

Ah! show me that way back,
The sweet way back to childhood’s land!
I seek happiness in vain,
Ringed round by barren shores.

Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder- www.oxfordlieder.co.uk

Botschaft

Wehe, Lüftchen, lind und lieblich
Um die Wange der Geliebten,
Spiele zart in ihrer Locke,
Eile nicht, hinwegzufliehn!
Tut sie dann vielleicht die Frage,
Wie es um mich Armen stehe,
Sprich: „Unendlich war sein Wehe,
Höchst bedenklich seine Lage;
Aber jetzo kann er hoffen
Wieder herrlich aufzuleben,
Denn du, Holde, denkst an ihn.”

Georg Friedrich Daumer

A Message

Blow breeze, gently and sweetly
About the cheek of my beloved,
Play softly with her tresses,
Make no haste to fly away!
Then if she should chance to ask
How things are with wretched me,
Say: ‘His sorrow’s been unending,
His condition most grave;
But now he can hope
To revel in life once more,
For you, fair one, think of him.’

Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder- www.oxfordlieder.co.uk

Non, la fidélité

Non, la fidélité
N'a jamais été
Qu'une imbécillité.
J'ai quitté par légèreté
Plus d'une beauté.

Vive la nouveauté!
Mais quoi! La probité?
Puérilité.

Le serment répété?
Style usité.
A-t-on jamais compté
Sur un traité
Dicté par la volupté,
Sans liberté?

On feint par vanité
D'être irrité.
L'amant peu regretté
Est invité:
La femme avec gaîté,
Bientôt s'arrange de son côté. 

Gabriel-Charles de Lattaignant

No, fidelity…

No, fidelity
Has never been
Anything but stupidity.
I left thoughtlessly
For more than one beauty.

Long live novelty!
But what… morality!
Puerility.

Repeated vows!
Out of fashion.
Could one ever count
on a treatise
Inspired by pleasure
Without freedom?

You pretend, out of vanity
To be annoyed
The little regretted lover
is invited
The woman with gaiety 
Soon settles on his side.

Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust, from the LiederNet Archive; https://www.lieder.net/

Souvent un air de vérité

Souvent un air de vérité
Se mêle au plus grossier mensonge.
Une nuit dans l'erreur d'un songe,
Au rang des rois j'étais monté.
Je vous aimais alors et j'osais vous le dire.
Les dieux à mon réveil ne m'ont pas tout ôté;
Je n'ai perdu que mon empire. 

Voltaire

Off of an air of truth

Off of an air of truth
Can mingle in the crudest lie.
One night in a deluded dream,
I had risen to the rank of kings.
I loved you at the time and dared to tell you.
The gods, when I woke up, did not take everything from me;
I only lost my empire.

Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust, from the LiederNet Archive; https://www.lieder.net/

Mon mari ma diffamée

Mon mari m'a diffamée
Pour l'amour de mon ami,
De la longue demeurée
Que j'ai faite avecque lui.
Hé! mon ami,
En dépit de mon mari
qui me va toujours battant,
Je ferai pis que devant.

Aucunes gens m'ont blamée,
Disant que j'ai fait ami;
La chose très fort m'agrée,
Mon très gracieux souci.
Hé! mon ami,
en dépit de mon mari
Qui ne vaut pas un grand blanc,
Je ferai pis que devant.

Quand je suis la nuit couchée
Entre les bras de mon ami,
Je deviens presque pamée
Du plaisir que prends en lui.
Hé! mon ami
Plût à Dieu que mon mari
Je ne visse de trente ans!
Nous nous don'rions du bon temps.

Si je perds ma renommée
Pour l'amour de mon ami,
Point n'en dois être blamée,
Car il est coint et joli.
Hé! mon ami, 
Je n'ai bonjour ni demi
Avec ce mari méchant.
Je ferai pis que devant. 

Anonymous

My husband has defamed me

My husband has defamed me
For the love of my male friend,
Of the long stay
I have made with him.
Hey! My lover,
In spite of my husband
who is always beating me,
I will behave worse than before.

Some people blamed me
Saying I have a lover
The thing greatly pleases me,
It is my very gracious concern.
Hey! My lover,
In spite of my husband
Who is worth a big nothing,
I will behave worse than before.

When I am laying at night
In the arms of my lover,
I just about faint
with the pleasure I take in him.
Hey! My lover,
Would to God that I never see
My husband in the next thirty years!
We will give each other a good time.

If I lose my reputation
For the love of my lover,
I ought not to be blamed,
For he is pleasant and handsome.
Hey! My lover,
I do not get a good day nor even half
with this nasty husband. 
I will behave worse than before.

Translation copyright © by Peter Low, from the LiederNet Archive; https://www.lieder.net/

Vrai Dieu, qui m’y confortera

Vrai Dieu, qui m'y confortera
Quand ce faux jaloux me tiendra
En sa chambre seule enfermée?
Mon père m'a donné un vieillard
Qui tout le jour crie:
„Hélas! Hélas! Hélas!”
Et dort au long de la nuitée.

Il me faut un vert galant
Qui fût de l'âge de trente ans
Et qui dormit la matinée.
Rossignolet du bois plaisant,
Pourquoi me va ainsi chantant,
Puisqu'au vieillard suis mariée?

Ami tu sois le bienvenu;
Longtemps a que t'ai attendu
Au joli bois, sous la ramée.

Anonymous

True God, who will comfort me

True God, who will comfort me
When this wrong and jealous man holds me
Locked up alone in his bedroom?
My father gave me an old man
Who shouts all day long:
“Alas! Alas! Alas!”
And sleeps the whole night.

What I need is a lusty younger man
Who’s around the age of thirty
And who sleeps in the morning.
Nightingale of the pleasant woods,
Why do you keep singing to me,
When I am married to an old man?

Lover, I bid welcome to you
For a while I have waited for you
In the pretty woods under the boughs.

Translation copyright © by Peter Low, from the LiederNet Archive; https://www.lieder.net/

On a dit mal de mon ami

On a dit mal de mon ami,
Dont j'ai le coeur bien marri,
Qu'ont-ils affaire quel il soit,
ou qu'il soit beau ou qu'il soit laid,
Quand je lui plais et qu'il me plait?

Un médisant ne veut onc bien:
Quand le cas ne lui touche en rien,
Pourquoi va-t-il médire?
Il fait vivre en martyre
Ceux qui ne lui demandent rien.

Quand j'ai tout bien considéré,
Femme n'est de quoi n'est parlé.
Voilà ce qui m'avance
De prendre ma plaisance.
Aussi dit-on bien que je l'ai.

Plût or à Dieu qu'il fut ici
Celui que j'ai pris et choisi, 
Puisqu'on en a voulu parler!
Et, dussent-ils tous enrager,
Je coucherais avecque lui !

Anonymous

They have spoken ill of my lover

They have spoken ill of my lover,
I have a very happy heart.
Why do they matter what it is,
Whether he is handsome or ugly
When he likes me and I like him?

A slanderer is never well-meaning
When the matter doesn’t affect him at all,
Why is he going to slander?
He makes life a misery
For people who ask nothing of him.

When all things considered,
There are no women not talked about.
That is what encourages me
To take pleasure.
So it is rightly said I have it.

Would to God that the man were here
Whom I have taken and chosen, 
Given that the people wanted to talk of him!
And, even if they all get angry,
I would lie with him!

Translation copyright © by Peter Low, from the LiederNet Archive; https://www.lieder.net/

Les trois presents

Je vous donne, avec grand plaisir,
De trois présents un à choisir.
La belle, c'est à vous de prendre
Celui des trois qui plus vous duit.
Les voici, sans vous faire attendre:
Bonjour, bonsoir et bonne nuit.

Jean-François Sarasin

Three Presents

I give you, with great pleasure,
Three presents- one to choose from.
Beautiful, it is up to you
One of three that fools you more.
Here they are, without making you wait:
“Good morning, good evening, and good night.”

Translation copyright © by Peter Low, from the LiederNet Archive; https://www.lieder.net/