Recital: Lizzy Stant '21 MM, Soprano

Suleika I

Was bedeutet die Bewegung?
Bringt der Ost mir frohe Kunde?
Seiner Schwingen frische Regung
Kühlt des Herzens tiefe Wunde.

Kosend spielt er mit dem Staube,
Jagt ihn auf in leichten Wölkchen,
Treibt zur sichern Rebenlaube
Der Insekten frohes Völkchen.

Lindert sanft der Sonne Glühen,
Kühlt auch mir die heissen Wangen,
Küsst die Reben noch im Fliehen,
Die auf Feld und Hügel prangen.

Und mir bringt sein leises Flüstern
Von dem Freunde tausend Grüsse;
Eh’ noch diese Hügel düstern,
Grüssen mich wohl tausend Küsse.

Und so kannst du weiter ziehen!
Diene Freunden und Betrübten.
Dort wo hohe Mauern glühen,
Dort find’ ich bald den Vielgeliebten.

Ach, die wahre Herzenskunde,
Liebeshauch, erfrischtes Leben
Wird mir nur aus seinem Munde, 
Kann mir nur sein Atem geben.

Marianne von Willemer

Suleika I

What does this stirring portend?
Is the east wind bringing me joyful tidings?
The refreshing motion of its wings
cools the heart’s deep wound.

It plays caressingly with the dust,
throwing it up in light clouds,
and drives the happy swarm
of insects to the safety of the vine-leaves.

It gently tempers the burning heat of the sun,
and cools my hot cheeks;
even as it flies it kisses the vines
that adorn the fields and hillsides.

And its soft whispering brings me
a thousand greetings from my beloved;
before these hills grow dark
I shall be greeted by a thousand kisses.

Now you may pass on,
and serve the happy and the sad;
there, where high walls glow,
I shall soon find my dearly beloved.

Ah, the true message of the heart,
the breath of love, renewed life
will come to me only from his lips, 
can be given to me only by his breath.

Suleika II

Ach, um deine feuchten Schwingen,
West, wie sehr ich dich beneide:
Denn du kannst ihm Kunde bringen
Was ich in der Trennung leide!

Die Bewegung deiner Flügel
Weckt im Busen stilles Sehnen;
Blumen, Auen, Wald und Hügel 
Stehn bei deinem Hauch in Tränen.

Doch dein mildes sanftes Wehen
Kühlt die wunden Augenlider;
Ach, für Leid müsst’ ich vergehen,
Hofft’ ich nicht zu sehn ihn wieder.

Eile denn zu meinem Lieben,
Spreche sanft zu seinem Herzen;
Doch vermeid’ ihn zu betrüben 
Und verbirg ihm meine Schmerzen.

Sag ihm, aber sag’s bescheiden:
Seine Liebe sei mein Leben,
Freudiges Gefühl von beiden
Wird mir seine Nähe geben.

Marianne von Willemer 

Suleika II 

Ah, West Wind, how I envy you
your moist wings;
for you can bring him word
of what I suffer separated from him.

The motion of your wings
awakens a silent longing within my breast.
Flowers, meadows, woods and hills 
grow tearful at your breath.  

But your mild, gentle breeze
cools my sore eyelids;
ah, I should die of grief
if I had no hope of seeing him again.

Hasten then to my beloved
speak softly to his heart –
but be careful not to distress him,
and conceal my suffering from him.

Tell him, but tell him humbly,
that his love is my life,
and that his presence will bring me
a joyous sense of both.

Translations © Richard Wigmore, author of Schubert the Complete Song Texts published by Schirmer Books, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder (www.oxfordlieder.co.uk

Du bist die Ruh

Du bist die Ruh,
Der Friede mild,
Die Sehnsucht du,
Und was sie stillt.
Ich weihe dir
Voll Lust und Schmerz
Zur Wohnung hier
Mein Aug’ und Herz.
Kehr’ ein bei mir,
Und schliesse du
Still hinter dir
Die Pforten zu.
Treib andern Schmerz
Aus dieser Brust.
Voll sei dies Herz
Von deiner Lust.
Dies Augenzelt
Von deinem Glanz
Allein erhellt,
O füll’ es ganz.

Friedrich Rückert 

You Are Repose

You are repose
And gentle peace,
You are longing
And what stills it.
I pledge to you
Full of joy and pain
As a dwelling here
My eyes and heart.
Come in to me,
And softly close
The gate
Behind you.
Drive other pain
From this breast!
Let my heart be filled
With your joy.
This temple of my eyes
Is lit
By your radiance alone,
O fill it utterly.

Translation by Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder (Faber, 2005) provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder- www.oxfordlieder.co.uk

Clairières dans le ciel

Elle était descendue au bas

Elle était descendue au bas de la prairie,
et, comme la prairie était toute fleurie
de plantes dont la tige aime à pousser dans l'eau,
ces plantes inondées je les avais cueillies.
Bientôt, s'étant mouillée, elle gagna le haut
de cette prairie-là qui était toute fleurie.
Elle riait et s'ébrouait avec la grâce
dégingandée qu'ont les jeunes filles trop grandes.
Elle avait le regard qu'ont les fleurs de lavande.

Glades of Light

She had gone down 

She had gone down to the bottom of the meadow,
and because the meadow was full of flowers 
that like to grow in the water, 
I had gathered the drowned plants. 
Soon, because she was wet, she came back to the top
of that flowery meadow. 
She laughed and moved with the lanky grace 
of girls who are too tall.  
She looked the way lavender flowers do.

Elle est gravement gaie

Elle est gravement gaie. Par moments son regard
se levait comme pour surprendre ma pensée.
Elle était douce alors comme quand il est tard 
le velours jaune et bleu d'une allée de pensées. 

She is solemnly gay

She is solemnly gay. Sometimes she looked up 
as if to see what I was thinking. 
She was as soft as the yellow and blue velvet  
of a lane of pansies late at night.

Parfois, je suis triste

Parfois, je suis triste. Et soudain, je pense à elle.
Alors, je suis joyeux. Mais je redeviens triste
de ce que je ne sais pas combien elle m'aime.
Elle est la jeune fille à l'âme toute claire,
et qui, dedans son cœur, garde avec jalousie
l'unique passion que l'on donne à un seul.
Elle est partie avant que s'ouvrent les tilleuls,
et, comme ils ont fleuri depuis qu'elle est partie,
Je me suis étonné de voir, ô mes amis,
des branches de tilleuls qui n'avaient pas de fleurs. 

Sometimes I'm sad

Sometimes I'm sad, and then suddenly I think of her 
and I'm happy. Then I'm sad again 
because I don't know how much she loves me. 
She is a bright-souled girl, 
and in her heart she jealously protects 
the one passion she will bestow on only one. 
She left before the lindens opened. 
They have flowered since then 
and I was amazed, my friends,  
to see linden branches with no flowers on them.

Un poète disait

Un poète disait que, lorsqu'il était jeune,
il fleurissait des vers comme un rosier des roses.
Lorsque je pense à elle, il me semble que jase
une fontaine intarissable dans mon cœur.
Comme sur le lys Dieu pose un parfum d'église,
comme il met du corail aux joues de la cerise,
je veux poser sur elle, avec dévotion,
la couleur d'un parfum, qui n'aura pas de nom. 

A poet said

A poet said that when he was young 
poems budded out of him like roses on a rose bush. 
When I think of her, it feels like 
there is an inexhaustible spring in my heart. 
As God gives the lily the odor of a church 
and tints the cherry's cheeks, 
I want to give her with devotion 
the color of a perfume that shall have no name. 

Fra tutte le pene

Fra tutte le pene,
v’é pena maggiore?
Son presso al mio bene,
sospiro d’amore
e dirgli non oso:
sospiro per te.
Mi manca il valore
per tanto soffrire.
Mi manca l’ardire 
per chieder mercè.

Of all the pains

Of all the pains,
is there any pain greater?
I am near my beloved,
I sigh with love,
and I dare not say to my beloved:
I sigh for you.
I lack the courage
to suffer so much.
I lack the boldness 
to ask for mercy.

Quando sarà quel di

Quando sarà quel di,
ch’io non ti senta in sen
sempre tremar così,
povero core?
Stelle, che crudeltà!
Un sol piacer non v’è,
che, quando mio si fa 
non sia dolore.

When will the day come

When will the day come
when I do not feel you in my breast
always trembling,
poor heart?
O stars, what cruelty!
There isn’t a single pleasure, 
which, when it becomes mine 
does not become sorrow.

Le dimore amor non ama

Le dimore amor non ama
presso a lei mi chiama amore
ed io volo ove mi chiama
il mio caro con dottier.
Tempo è ben che l’alma ottenga
la mercè d’un lungo esilio
e che ormai supplisca il ciglio 
agli uffi ci del pensier.

Love does not like delays

Love does not like delays.
My love calls me to her,
and I rush to wherever my dear
commander calls me.
It is time that my soul obtained
the mercy of a long exile,
and that from now on my eyes 
can take the place of mere imagining.

Di due bell’anime

Di due bell’anime, che amor piagò,
gli affetti teneri turbar non vuò.
Godete placidi nel sen d’amor.
Oh se fedele fosse così
quella crudele che mi ferì,
meco men barbaro saresti, amor. 

Pietro Metastasio

Two beautiful souls

Two beautiful souls, who love has wounded,
their tender affections I do not wish to disturb.
Enjoy them quietly in the bosom of love.
Oh, if as faithful to me
were the cruel one who wounded me, you would be less barbarous toward me, my love.

Translations by Alyssa Anderson, Anna Freeburg, and Joseph Spoelstra