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Thread: Melody of the day

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    Senior Member helenora's Avatar
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    Red face Melody of the day

    It's an evening here and I'm listening... My favorite of this evening is " Ombra mai fu" with Cecilia Bartoli . It has a hypnotizing effect on me, can't stop listening to it.... non-stop listening to one aria LOL

    and I love this lyrics.

    Tender and beautiful fronds
    of my beloved plane tree,
    let Fate smile upon you.
    May thunder, lightning, and storms
    never disturb your dear peace,
    nor may you by blowing winds be profaned.

    Never was a shade
    of any plant
    dearer and more lovely,
    or more sweet.

    Please, share your melodie of the day, if it has nice lyrics, it's even for the better

    PS Not sure if there is similar thread
    Last edited by helenora; Nov-25-2015 at 13:47.
    Man muss das Leben tanzen

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    Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment.
    chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie.

    J'ai tout quitté pour l'ingrate Sylvie.
    (or Tu m'as quitté pour la belle Sylvie.)
    Elle me quitte et prend un autre amant.
    (or Elle te quitte pour un autre amant.)

    Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment.
    chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie.

    Tant que cette eau coulera doucement
    vers ce ruisseau qui borde la prairie,

    Je t'aimerai me répétait Sylvie.
    L'eau coule encore. Elle a changé pourtant.

    Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment.
    chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie.


    The pleasure of love lasts only a moment
    The grief of love lasts a lifetime.

    I gave up everything for ungrateful Sylvia,
    (or You gave me up for the beautiful Sylvia,)
    She is leaving me for another lover.
    (or She is leaving you for another lover.)

    The pleasure of love lasts only a moment,
    The grief of love lasts a lifetime.

    "As long as this water will run gently
    Towards this brook which borders the meadow,

    I will love you", Sylvia told me repeatedly.
    The water still runs, but she has changed.

    The pleasure of love lasts only a moment,
    The grief of love lasts a lifetime.

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    Senior Member Tsaraslondon's Avatar
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    My favourite ever Duparc song, and this is my favourite version of it.

    Dans ton cœur dort un clair de lune,
    Un doux clair de lune d'été,
    Et pour fuir la vie importune,
    Je me noierai dans ta clarté.

    J'oublierai les douleurs passées,
    Mon amour, quand tu berceras
    Mon triste cœur et mes pensées
    Dans le calme aimant de tes bras.

    Tu prendras ma tête malade,
    Oh! quelquefois sur tes genoux,
    Et lui diras une ballade
    Qui semblera parler de nous;

    Et dans tes yeux pleins de tristesses,
    Dans tes yeux alors je boirai
    Tant de baisers et de tendresses,
    Que peut-être je guérirai.

    In your heart sleeps a moonlight,
    a soft summer's moonlight,
    and, to flee from importunate life,
    I shall drown myself in your brightness.

    I shall forget past sufferings,
    my beloved, when you cradle
    my sad heart and my thoughts
    in the loving peace of your arms.

    Oh! Sometimes you will take
    my sick head upon your knees,
    and will tell it a ballad
    which will seem to speak of us;

    and in your eyes full of sorrows,
    in your eyes then I shall drink
    so many kisses and tokens of love,
    that perhaps I shall recover.

    © translated by Christopher Goldsack
    "It's not enough to have a beautiful voice." Maria Callas

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    Senior Member pjang23's Avatar
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    Fauré's Les Roses d'Ispahan, Op.39/4 performed by Elly Ameling and Dalton Baldwin. Evocative, exotic, and enchanting.



    “…as in Chausson’s La Caravane we are made to feel the sway of the camels as we ride across the desert sands; we also feel the heat and the lassitude and smouldering longing – always moderated by Fauréan courtesy of course. The apostrophized Leilah is Bizet’s Arab hostess come of age, for here oriental evocation is thoroughly assimilated, deep in the heart of the mélodie.” [Johnson, Graham & Stokes, Richard: “A French Song Companion”, Oxford University Press, New York, 2000, P.164]

    Les roses d'Ispahan dans leur gaîne de mousse,
    Les jasmins de Mossoul, les fleurs de l'oranger,
    Ont un parfum moins frais, ont une odeur moins douce,
    Ô blanche Léïlah! que ton souffle léger.

    Ta lèvre est de corail et ton rire léger
    Sonne mieux que l'eau vive et d'une voix plus douce.
    Mieux que le vent joyeux qui berce l'oranger,
    Mieux que l'oiseau qui chante au bord d'un nid de mousse.

    Ô Leïlah! depuis que de leur vol léger
    Tous les baisers ont fui de ta lèvre si douce
    Il n'est plus de parfum dans le pâle oranger,
    Ni de céleste arome aux roses dans leur mousse.

    Oh! que ton jeune amour, ce papillon léger,
    Revienne vers mon coeur d'une aile prompte et douce.
    Et qu'il parfume encor [les fleurs]1 de l'oranger,
    Les roses d'Ispahan dans leur gaîne de mousse.

    The roses of Ispahan in their sheath of moss,
    the jasmines of Mosul, the orange blossoms,
    have a fragrance less fresh, an aroma less sweet,
    O pale Leila, than your light breath!

    Your lips are coral and your light laughter
    has a softer and lovelier sound than rippling water,
    lovelier than the joyous breeze that rocks the orange-tree,
    lovelier than the bird that sings near its nest of moss.

    O Leila, ever since in their airy flight
    all the kisses have fled from your lips so sweet,
    there is no longer any fragrance from the pale orange-tree,
    no heavenly aroma from the roses in the moss.

    Oh, if only your youthful love, that light butterfly,
    would return to my heart on swift and gentle wings,
    and perfume once more the orange blossom
    and the roses of Ispahan in their sheath of moss.

    © by Peter Low
    Last edited by pjang23; Nov-26-2015 at 02:37.

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    Eleanor Steber "Villanelle" Berlioz


    1. Villanelle

    Quand viendra la saison nouvelle,
    Quand auront disparu les froids,
    Tous les deux nous irons, ma belle,
    Pour cueillir le muguet aux bois.
    Sous nos pieds égrenant les perles
    Que l’on voit au matin trembler.
    Nous irons écouter les merles siffler.

    Le printemps est venu, ma belle,
    C’est le mois des amants béni;
    Et l’oiseau satinant son aile,
    Dit ses vers au rebord du nid.
    Oh! Viens donc, sur ce banc de mousse
    Pour parler de nos beaux amours,
    Et dis-moi de ta voix si douce,
    Toujours!

    Loin, bien loin, égarant nos courses,
    Faisant fuir le lapins caché,
    Et le daim, au miroir des sources
    Admirant son grand bois penché;
    Puis chez nous, tout heureux, tout aisés,
    En paniers enlaçant nos doigts,
    Revenons, rapportant des fraises des bois.

    Villanelle

    When the new season has come,
    when the cold has disappeared,
    together we will go, my lovely one,
    to gather lilies-of the valley in the woods.
    Beneath our feet picking the pearls
    that one sees trembling in the morning.
    We will go to hear the blackbirds whistle.

    Spring has come, my lovely one,
    this is the month blessed by lovers;
    and the bird, smoothing its wing,
    speaks its verses from the rim of its nest.
    Oh! Come here, onto this mossy bank
    to speak of our beautiful love,
    and say to me, in your sweet voice,
    Forever!

    Far, very far, wandering from our path,
    setting to flight the hidden rabbit,
    and the buck, in the mirror of the spring
    admiring its great twisted antlers;
    then home, all happy and at ease,
    lacing our fingers together like baskets,
    we’ll return, carrying wild strawberries

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    Senior Member helenora's Avatar
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    Today Lieder
    My favorite Rita Streich Schuman "Die Lotusblume"


    Die Lotosblume ängstigt
    Sich vor der Sonne Pracht,
    Und mit gesenktem Haupte
    Erwartet sie träumend die Nacht.

    Der Mond, der ist ihr Buhle,
    Er weckt sie mit seinem Licht,
    Und ihm entschleiert sie freundlich
    Ihr frommes Blumengesicht.

    Sie blüht und glüht und leuchtet,
    Und starret stumm in die Höh;
    Sie duftet und weinet und zittert
    Vor Liebe und Liebesweh!

    The Lotus flower fears
    before the suns splendour,
    and with drooping head
    she dreamily awaits the night.

    The moon, he is her lover.
    He wakes her with his light
    and to him she happily unveils
    her devoted flower-face.

    She blooms and glows and shines
    and stares mute in the heavens.
    She exhales and weeps and trembles
    with love and love's pain.

    Man muss das Leben tanzen

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    Les filles de cadix Leo Delibes

    Nous venions de voir le taurreau,
    Trois garçon, trois fillettes,
    Sur la pelouse il faisait beau
    Et nous dansions un boléro
    Au son des castagnettes.
    'Dites-moi, ce matin,
    Si j'ai bonne mine,
    Vous me trouvez la taille fine?…
    Les filles de Cadix aiment assez cela!'

    Et nous dansions un boléro,
    Un soir c'était dimanche
    Vers nous s'en vint un hidalgo,
    Cousu d'or, la plume au chapeau,
    Et le poing sur la hanche:
    'Si tu veux,
    Cet or est à toi.
    Beau sire,
    Passez votre chemin, beau sire...
    Les filles de Cadix n'entendent pas cela!
    Ah! ah!'

    Et nous dansions un boléro,
    Au pied de la colline,
    Sur le chemin passait Diègo,
    Qui pour tout bien n'a qu'un manteau
    Et qu'une mandoline:
    'La belle aux doux yeux,
    Je suis jaloux,
    Jaloux, jaloux,
    Jaloux! jaloux! quelle sottise!
    Les filles de Cadix craignent ce défaut-là!'
    Try to align
    Engels vertaling
    The girls from Cadiz

    We had just seen the bull,
    Three boys, three girls,
    On the lawn it was sunny
    And we were dancing a bolero
    At the sound of the castanets.
    'Tell me, this morning,
    If I look well,
    Do you think my waist is slim?…
    The girls of Cadiz tend to love that!'

    And we were dancing a bolero,
    One Sunday evening
    A hidalgo came to us,
    Dressed in gold, with a feather on his hat,
    And his fist on his hip:
    'If you want,
    This gold is yours.
    Fair sir,
    Go your way, fair sir...
    The girls of Cadiz don't understand that!
    Ah! ah!'

    And we were dancing a bolero,
    Down the hill,
    On the way went Diego,
    Who counts just a coat for his possessions
    And a mandolin:
    'The fair soft-eyed lady,
    I am jealous,
    Jealous, jealous,
    Jealous! jealous! what a folly!
    The girls of Cadiz fear this flaw!'

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    Senior Member Biwa's Avatar
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    I've been playing this one a lot recently.

    Händel - Theodora : As with rosy

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    Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
    Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
    A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
    Which seek thro' the world, is ne'er met elsewhere.
    Home! Home!
    Sweet, sweet home!
    There's no place like home
    There's no place like home!
    Last edited by Pugg; Nov-28-2015 at 05:45.

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    Senior Member helenora's Avatar
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    Dame Joan Sutherland made me think of Dame Kiri Te Kanawa singing Pokarekare ana
    Man muss das Leben tanzen

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    Renée Fleming

    Beim Schlafengehen"

    ("Going to sleep") (Text: Hermann Hesse)

    Nun der Tag mich müd gemacht,
    soll mein sehnliches Verlangen
    freundlich die gestirnte Nacht
    wie ein müdes Kind empfangen.

    Hände, lasst von allem Tun
    Stirn, vergiss du alles Denken,
    Alle meine Sinne nun
    wollen sich in Schlummer senken.

    Und die Seele unbewacht
    will in freien Flügen schweben,
    um im Zauberkreis der Nacht
    tief und tausendfach zu leben.


    Now that I am wearied of the day,
    my ardent desire shall happily receive
    the starry night
    like a sleepy child.

    Hands, stop all your work.
    Brow, forget all your thinking.
    All my senses now
    yearn to sink into slumber.

    And my unfettered soul
    wishes to soar up freely
    into night's magic sphere
    to live there deeply and thousandfold.



    Now day has wearied me,
    O restless mind, turn mild,
    welcome the starry night,
    just like a tired child.

    Leave off all labour, hands,
    forget all thinking, brow;
    my senses yearn to sink
    into a slumber now.

    And my unguarded soul
    shall soar to heights untold,
    to live within night's spell –
    deeply, a thousandfold.

    Translation: Christina Egan

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    Dame Kri te Kanawa


    Pastrè dè délaï l’aïo,
    As gaïré dè buon tèms?
    Dio lou baïlèro lèrô,
    Lèrô lèrô lèrô lèrô baïlèro lô.
    Pastré lou prat faï flour,
    Li cal gorda toun troupel.
    Dio lou baïlèro lèrô,
    Lèrô lèrô lèrô lèrô baïlèro lô.
    Pastré couci foraï,
    En obal io lou bel riou!
    Dio lou baïlèro lèrô,
    Lèrô lèrô lèrô lèrô baïlèro lô.

    [English translation]

    Shepherd across the river,
    You’re hardly having a good time,
    Sing baïlèro lèrô
    No, I’m not,
    And you, too, can sing baïlèro

    Shepherd, the meadows are in bloom.
    You should graze your flock on this side,
    Sing baïlèro lèrô
    The grass is greener in the meadows on this side,
    Baïlèro lèrô

    Shepherd, the water divides us,
    And I can’t cross it,
    Sing baïlèro lèrô
    Then I’ll come down and find you,
    Baïlèro lèrô

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    Reviens, reviens, ma bien-aimée !
    Comme une fleur loin du soleil,
    La fleur de ma vie est fermée,
    Loin de ton sourire vermeil.

    Entre nos coeurs [tant de]1 distance !
    Tant d'espace entre nos baisers !
    Ô sort amer! ô dure absence !
    Ô grands désirs inapaisés !

    D'ici là-bas que de campagnes,
    Que de villes et de hameaux,
    Que de vallons et de montagnes,
    À lasser le pied des chevaux !

    Au pays qui me prend ma belle,
    Hélas! si je pouvais aller ;
    Et si mon corps avait une aile
    Comme mon âme pour voler !

    Par-dessus [les]2 vertes collines,
    Les montagnes au front d'azur,
    Les champs rayés et les ravines,
    J'irais d'un vol rapide et sûr.

    Le corps ne suit pas la pensée;
    Pour moi, mon âme, va tout droit,
    Comme une colombe blessée,
    [S'abattre]3 au rebord de son toit.

    Descends dans sa gorge divine,
    Blonde et fauve comme de l'or,
    Douce comme un duvet d'hermine,
    Sa gorge, mon royal trésor ;

    Et dis, mon âme, à cette belle :
    «[Tu sais bien qu'il compte les jours!]4
    Ô ma colombe! à tire d'aile,
    Retourne au nid de nos amours.»



    Return, return, my beloved!
    Language: English after the French (Français)

    Return, return, my beloved!
    Like a flower far from the sun,
    The flower of my life is shut,
    Far from your rosy smile!

    Between our hearts such distance!
    Such space between our kisses!
    O bitter destiny! O harsh absence!
    O great, unappeasable desires!

    Between here and there what lands,
    What cities and hamlets,
    What valleys and montains,
    To exhaust the feet of horses!

    To the land that has taken my love
    Ah! if only I could go;
    If only my body had wings
    With which to fly, like my soul!

    Over [the]1 green hills,
    Over mountains with azure brows,
    Over scraped fields and ravines,
    I would go in rapid and secure flight.

    The body does not obey the thought;
    For me, my soul goes straight ahead
    And, like a wounded dove,
    Collapses upon the edge of her roof.

    Lower yourself onto that divine bosom,
    As lovely and burnished as gold,
    As soft as an ermine duvet,
    Her bosom, my royal treasure;

    And say, my soul, to this beauty:
    "You know well that he is counting the days!
    O my dove! Take flight
    And return to the nest of our loves."

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    Senior Member helenora's Avatar
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    Après un rêve

    Dans un sommeil que charmait ton image
    Je rêvais le bonheur, ardent mirage;
    Tes yeux étaient plus doux, ta voix pure et sonore,
    Tu rayonnais comme un ciel éclairé par l'aurore.
    Tu m'appelais et je quittais la terre
    Pour m'enfuir avec toi vers la lumière;
    Les cieux pour nous, entr'ouvraient leurs nues,
    Splendeurs inconnues, lueurs divines entrevues...

    Hélas! Hélas, triste réveil des songes!
    Je t'appelle, ô nuit, rends-moi tes mensonges;
    Reviens, reviens radieuse,
    Reviens, ô nuit mystérieuse!

    After a dream

    In a sleep which your image charmed
    I dreamed of happiness, ardent mirage;
    your eyes were sweeter, your voice pure and ringing,
    you shone like a sky lit up by the dawn.
    You were calling me and I was leaving the earth
    to flee with you towards the light;
    the skies parted their clouds for us,
    unknown splendours, divine half-seen gleams...

    Alas! Alas! Sad awakening from dreams!
    I call on you, o night, give me back your deceits;
    come back, come back resplendent,
    come back, o mysterious night!
    Man muss das Leben tanzen

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    Senior Member Tsaraslondon's Avatar
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    Dame Janet Baker always had a special affinity for this wonderful song by Mahler. her tone so hushed and withdrawn. This is one of the greatest pieces of singing even she committed to disc.







    'Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen'
    (Fünf Rückertlieder, no. 4)

    Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen,
    Mit der ich sonst viele Zeit verdorben,
    Sie hat so lange nichts von mir vernommen,
    Sie mag wohl glauben, ich sei gestorben!

    Es ist mir auch gar nichts daran gelegen,
    Ob sie mich für gestorben hält,
    Ich kann auch gar nichts sagen dagegen,
    Denn wirklich bin ich gestorben der Welt.

    Ich bin gestorben dem Weltgetümmel,
    Und ruh' in einem stillen Gebiet!
    Ich leb' allein in meinem Himmel,
    In meinem Lieben, in meinem Lied!

    ========

    ENGLISH TRANSLATION:

    I am lost to the world
    with which I used to waste so much time,
    It has heard nothing from me for so long
    that it may very well believe that I am dead!

    It is of no consequence to me
    Whether it thinks me dead;
    I cannot deny it,
    for I really am dead to the world.

    I am dead to the world's tumult,
    And I rest in a quiet realm!
    I live alone in my heaven,
    In my love and in my song
    "It's not enough to have a beautiful voice." Maria Callas

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