Recital: Marissa Pearl Fieland '21 BM, Soprano

Il rimprovero

Mi lagnerò tacendo
Della mia sorte amara, ah!
Ma ch’io non t’ami
O cara, non lo sperar da me.
Crudel, perche fin’ora
Farmi penar cosi? 
Crudel! Non lo sperar da me

Pietro Metastasio

The reproach

I will complain in silence
About my bitter fate, ah!
But that I should not love you,
Oh dearest, do not hope for it from me
Cruel one, why until now
You make me suffer in this way?
Cruel one, do not hope for it from me

La pastorella delle Alpi

Son bella pastorella,
Che scende ogni mattino,
Ed offre un cestellino di fresche frutta e fior.
Chi viene al primo albore avrà vezzose rose
E poma rugia dose,
Venite al mio gardin


Chi nel notturno orrore smari la buona via
Alla capanna mia ritroverà il camin,
Venite, o passaggiero,
La pastorella è qua,
Ma il fior del suo pensiero
Ad uno sol darà!


Conte Carlo Pepoli

The Shepherdess of the Alps

I am the pretty shepherdess
That descends every morning
And offers a little basket of fresh fruit and flowers
Whoever comes at the first dawn will have pretty roses
And dew sprinkled apples
Come to my garden
Ah, Ah, Ah

Whoever in the night’s terrors loses the safe path
at my little hut they will find their way again
Come oh traveler
The shepherdess is here
But the flower of her thought
Will be given to only one
Ah, Ah, Ah

La promessa

Ch'io mai vi possa lasciar d'amare,
No, nol credete, pupille care;
Nè men per gioco v'ingannerò.
Voi foste e siete le mie faville,
E voi sarete, care pupille,
Il mio bel foco sin ch'io vivrò.

Nicola Francisco Haym

The Promise

That I could ever cease to love you
Do not believe it, dear eyes!
Not even as a joke will I deceive you, no.
You were and are my sparks,
And you will be, dear, my beautiful passion
As long as I shall live

Translations adapted from IPA Source by Marissa Fieland

Du meines Herzens Krönelein

Du meines Herzens Krönelein,
Du bist von lautrem Golde
Wenn andere daneben sein,
Dann bist du noch viel holde.

Die andern tun so gern gescheit,
Du bist gar sanft und stille
Daß jedes Herz sich dein erfreut,
Dein Glück ist's, nicht dein Wille.

Die andern suchen Lieb' und Gunst
mit tausend falschen Worten,
Du ohne Mund- und Augen-Kunst,
bist wert an allen Orten.

Du bist als wie die Ros' im Wald
Sie weiß nichts von ihrer Blüte,
Doch jedem, der vorüberwallt,
erfreut sie das Gemüte. 

Felix Ludwig Julius Dahn

You my heart’s little crown

You, my heart’s little crown
You are made of pure gold
When others stand beside you,
you are still more lovely.

The others would like to be so clever
You are so gentle and quiet
That every heart delights in you,
because of your charm not your will.

The others seek love and favor
with a thousand lies
You, without artifice of mind or eye,
are esteemed in every place.

You are like the rose in the forest,
knowing nothing of its bloom
Yet rejoicing the heart 
of every passer-by.

Breit’ über mein Haupt

Breit’ über mein Haupt dein schwarzes Haar,
Neig’ zu mir dein Angesicht,
Da strömt in die Seele so hell und klar
Mir deiner Augen Licht.

Ich will nicht droben der Sonne Pracht,
Noch der Sterne leuchtenden Kranz,
Ich will nur deiner Locken Nacht
Und deiner Blicke Glanz.

Adolf Friedrich, Graf von Schack

Spread your black hair over my head

Spread your black hair over my head
Incline your face over mine
For then streams so brightly and clearly
The light of your eyes into my soul.

I do not want the sun’s splendor
Nor the shining wreath of stars above
I only want the black night of your curls
And the radiance of your glance

Allerseelen

Stell auf den Tisch die duftenden Reseden,
Die letzten roten Astern trag herbei,
Und laß uns wieder von der Liebe reden,
Wie einst im Mai.

Gib mir die Hand, daß ich sie heimlich drücke,
Und wenn man’s sieht, mir ist es einerlei,
Gib mir nur einen deiner süßen Blicke,
Wie einst im Mai.

Es blüht und duftet heut auf jedem Grabe,
Ein Tag im Jahr ist ja den Toten frei,
Komm am mein Herz, daß ich dich wieder habe,
Wie einst im Mai.

Hermann von Gilm zu Rosenegg

All souls day

Place on the table the fragrant mignonettes
Bring in the last red asters
And let us again talk of love 
as once in May.

Give me your hand, that I secretly may press
And if someone sees, it makes no difference to me.
Give me just one of your sweet glances,
as once in May.

And is blooming and fragrant today on every grave
For one day in the year the dead are set free
Come to my heart, that I may have you again
as once in May.

Zueignung

Ja, du weißt es, teure Seele,
Daß ich fern von dir mich quäle,
Liebe macht die Herzen krank,
Habe Dank.

Einst hielt ich, der Freiheit Zecher,
Hoch den Amethysten-Becher,
Und du segnetest den Trank,
Habe Dank.

Und beschworst darin die Bösen,
Bis ich, was ich nie gewesen,
Heilig, heilig an’s Herz dir sank,
Habe Dank! 

Hermann von Gilm zu Rosenegg

Dedication

Yes, you know it, dearest soul.
How I suffer when I am away from you
Love makes the heart sick,
Have thanks.

Once held I, the freedom drinker
High the amethyst beaker,
and you blessed the drink,
Have thanks.

And you exorcized within it the evils
Until I, as never before
Blest, Blest upon your heart which sank 
Have thanks.

Translations adapted from IPA Source by Marissa Fieland

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.

Francis Jammes

Sometimes, I am sad

Sometimes, I am sad.  And then, I think of her.
Then, I am happy. But I become sad again
because I do not know how much she loves me
She is a young girl with a bright soul, 
and who, in her heart, jealousy protects 
the unique passion that one gives to one person alone.
She left before the linden trees bloomed,
And, since they bloomed after she departed,
I myself was amazed to see, Oh my friends,
Some branches of the lindens had no flowers.

Nous nous aimerons tant

Nous nous aimerons tant
que nous tairons nos mots,
en nous tendant la main,
quand nous nous reverrons.
Vous serez ombragée par d’anciens rameaux
sur le banc que je sais où nous nous assoierons.
Donc nous nous assoierons
sur ce banc tous deux seuls …
D’un long moment, ô mon amie, vous n’oserez …
Que vous me serez douce
et que je tremblerai …

Francis Jammes

We shall love each other so much

We shall love each other so much
we do not reveal our words
As we stretch out our hands to each other
when we meet again
You will be shaded by some old branches
On the bench where I know we both shall sit
And so we will sit
on this bench, we two alone . . .
For a long time, oh my love, you will not dare
How gentle you will be with me
and how I tremble.

Translations adapted from IPA Source by Marissa Fieland

Il pleure dans mon cœur

Il pleure dans mon cœur
Comme il pleut sur la ville;
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon cœur?
Ô bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits!
Pour un cœur qui s’ennuie
Ô le bruit de la pluie!
Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce cœur qui s’écœure.
Quoi! nulle trahison? …
Ce deuil est sans raison.
C’est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi
Sans amour et sans haine,
Mon cœur a tant de peine.

Paul Verlaine

It weeps in my heart

It weeps in my heart
as rain falls on the town;
What is this lethargy
that pervades my heart?
Oh, the soft sound of the rain
on the ground and on the roofs
For a listless heart,
oh the sound of the rain
It rains without reason
In this heart which is sick.
What? No betrayal?
This grief is without reason
It is truly the worst pain
to not know why
Without love and without hatred
My heart feels such pain.

Translations adapted from IPA Source by Marissa Fieland

Nuit d'étoiles

Nuit d’étoiles,
Sous tes voiles,
Sous ta brise et tes parfums,
Triste lyre
Qui soupire,
Je rêve aux amours défunts.

La sereine mélancolie
Vient éclore au fond de mon cœur,
Et j’entends l’âme de ma mie
Tressaillir dans le bois rêveur.

Nuit d’étoiles …

Je revois à notre fontaine
Tes regards bleus comme les cieux;
Cette rose, c’est ton haleine,
Et ces étoiles sont tes yeux. 

Nuit d’étoiles …

Théodore Faullin de Banville

Night of Stars

Night of stars,
Beneath your veils
Beneath your breeze and your fragrance
A sad lyre
that sighs,
I dream of lovers who have past

The serene melancholy
Now blooms in the depths of my heart
And I hear the soul of my love
Quiver in the dreaming woods

Night of stars …

I see you again at our fountain
Your gaze blue as the heavens
This rose, it is your breath
And these stars are your eyes. 

Night of stars …

Translations adapted from IPA Source by Marissa Fieland