1.SERGEI RACHMANINOV
Op21.No.7 .
"Zdyèss charashaw"
- "How fair
this place"
Rachmaninov wrote this
radiant song while on his honeymoon...
Zdyèss charashaw...
- How fair this place...
Vzglyanee, vdalee agnyom gavreet ryeka;
- Look, in the distance,the river gleams like fire,
tsvetneem kavrom loogah lekglee,
- the meadow lies in a coverlet of flowers
belayoot ablaka.
- and of snow white clouds.
Zdyèss nyet loodjay.
- There are no people ...
zdyess teeshina
- there is peace
zdyess tolkah buch
- there is only God
dah yah.
- and I.
Tsvetui dasta rahyah sàssnah,
- Flowers and an old tree
dah tui,
- and you,
metchtah mawyah !
- my longed for one !
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2. Gabriel Fauré
Op.39 No 4 - Les Roses d'Ispahan
Lecomte de Lisle
Ispahan is a Damask
rose and of Persian origin. Her
species name is "PomPon des Princes", and although
she was first cultivated in England and recorded in
1832, she is probably very much older.
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 Leïlah! 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
O Leïlah! Depuis que de leur vol léger
Tous les baisers ont fui de ta lèvre si douce.
Il ne 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 la fleur de l'oranger,
Les roses d'Ispahan dans leur gaine de mousse.
The Roses of Ispahan
wrapped in their mousseline,
The jasmin of
Mossoul,
And orange flowers,
Possess a perfume
less fresh, a scent less sweet,
Than your light
whisper, O pale Leïlah!
Your lips of coral,
and your gay laugh
Are better than
rushing water and sound sweeter.
Lighter than the
joyous breeze which rocks the orange tree,
Better than the
bird which sings on the edge of it's nest of mousse. O
Leïlah! Since
their gentle flight All the kisses have fled from your
sweet lips. There
is no longer any perfume in the pale orange tree,
Neither the heavenly
scent of roses enfolded in their mousse.
Oh! That your
young love, light as a butterfly
Could return to
my heart on a wing so swift and sweet.
And restore the
scent to the orange flowers
And the Roses
of Ispahan wrapped in their mousseline.
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3. Giovanni d'Anzi -
Ma l'amore, no!
Milan 1943 - But
love, no!
Guardando le rose, fiorite
stamani, io penso,"domani saranna appassite",
E tutte le cose son come le rose, che vivono un giorno, un'ora
e non più!
Ma l'amore, no.
L'amore mio non
può disperdersi nel vento, con le rose.
Tanto è
forte che non cederà non sfiorirà.
Io lo veglierò.
Io lo diffenderò - da tutte quelle insidie velenose -
che vorrebbero
strapparlo al cuor, povero amor! Forse te ne andrai..
D'altre donne
le carezze cercherai.. Ahimè.. E se tornerai già
sfiorita ogni
bellezza troverai in me.. Ma l'amore, no. - L'amore mio
non puo Dissolversi
con l'oro dei capelli. Finch'io viva sarà vivo in
me, solo per te!
Seeing the roses in
flower this morning, I'm thinking, "tomorrow
they'll be over",
And everything's like the roses, alive for
today, just an
hour, not more! But not Love. My love can't disperse
in the wind, like
roses. I shall watch over it, defending it from all
those insidious
poisons - That want to strike at the heart.... poor
Love! Perhaps
you will wander off.seeking the caresses of other
women...Ahimè..
And if you return, you'll find me in full bloom.. But
my love won't
disappear, along with the gold in your hair. As long as
I'm alive, it'll
live in me, just for you!
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4. FRANCIS POULENC-
La Reine de Coeur
Maurice Carème
1960. - The Queen
of the Heart
Mollement accoudée
- Gently....
A ses vitres
de lune,
- By her moonlit windowpanes
La Reine vous salue
- TheQueen greets you
D'une fleur de rosier.
- From a rose tree.
C'est la Reine
de coeur.
- She is the
Queen of the heart.
Elle peut, s'il lui
plaît,
- She is able to pleasure it.
Vous meneren
secret
- She can lead you in secret
Vers d'étranges
demeures
- To strange places
Où il n'est
plus de portes,
- Where there
are no longer any doors
De salles ni de tours
- Neither rooms
nor towers
Et où les jeunesmortes
- And where the young dead
Viennent parler
d'amour
- Come to talk
of love.
La Reine vous salue;
- The Queen greets you,
Hâtez-vous de la suivre
- Hasten to meet her
Dans son chateau
de givre
- In her castle
of hoar-frost.
Aux doux vitraux de
lune.
- By the sweet, moonlit,windowpanes.
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5. CHARLES IVES - Two
Little Flowers
1921
(and dedicated to them)
clearly a reference
to hisdaughters!
On sunny days in our
backyard,
Two little flowers
are seen,
One dressed at
times, in brightest ..pink
and one in green.
The marigold is
radiant, the rose... passing fair;
The violet is
ever dear, the orchid ever rare;
There's loveliness
in wild flow'rs of field or wide savannah,
But fairest, rarest,
of them all
are Edith and
Susanna.
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6. ROBERT STOLZ - Du
sollst der Kaiser meine Seele Sein
Der Favorit 1908
Little known outside
Vienna, where his operettas were much appreciated,
this is one of Robert Stolz' loveliest arias. Written at the
height of the Belle Époch, it is a beautiful description
of great love,
unfettered by convention.
Ich weiss ein Land das
ohne Schranken
Ich weiss ein
Land worin sich ranken
Wohl tausend zärtliche
Gedanken um meiner Liebe Rosenpfad
Das ist das Land
worin ich lebe,
Das ist das Reich
das ich dir gebe,
Auf dessen Thron
ich dich nun hebe ist meines Herzens freier stadt -
Du, du, du sollst
der Kaiser meiner Seele sein, Du, du, du sollst den
Purpur tragen
ganz allein ! Du, du, du sollst das Szepter führen,
du,
du, nur du darfst
drin regieren, Du, du, du ziest als Sieger ein.
I know a land without
borders
I know a kingdom
encircled
By a thousand
enchanting thoughts, winding themselves around my
beloved Rose garden.
That is the world which I inhabit - that is the
kingdom which
I give to you, Upon whose throne I place you - the free
world of my heart.
You are the Emperor of my soul, You alone can wear
the purple there,
Only you may hold the sceptre, for only you may
reign Where you
are crowned as the victor.
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7. ERNEST CHAUSSON Op.2,
No. 7 - Le Colibri
Lecomte de Lisle
The Humming Bird
Chausson's exquisite
painting in music of the hummingbird, is avignette,
and contrasts well with his grand, luscious orchestral writing.
His aural description of the bird's slow descent toward's the
fatal flower, and the pause just before the dénoument are
unique, and unforgettable.
Le vert colibri, le
roi des collines,
Voyant la rosée
et le soleil clair,
Luire dans son
nid tissé d'herbes fines,
Comme un frais
rayon s'échappe dans l'air.
Il se hâte
et vole aux sources voisines,
Où les
bambous font le bruit de la mer,
Où l'açoka
rouge aux odeurs divines
S'ouvre et porte
au coeur un humide éclair.
Vers la fleur
dorée, il descend, se pose,
Et boit tant d'amour
dans la coupe rose.
Qu'il meurt, ne sachant
s'il l'a pu tarir!
Sur ta lèvre
pure, o ma bien aimée,
Telle aussi mon
âme eut voulu mourir,
Du premier baiser,
qui l'a parfumée.
The green hummingbird,
king of the hills,
Seeing the dew
and the bright sun,
Glistens in his
nest woven with fine twigs,
Escapes in the
air like a clear sunbeam.
He hurries off
to the nearby springs,
Where the bamboos
swish with the sound of the sea,
Where the ruby
hibiscus with it's heavenly perfume
Unfolds, and brings
a moist light to the heart.
Towards the golden flower
he descends, alights,
And drinks so much love from the rosy cup
That he dies, not knowing if he could have drained it!
On your pure lips, O my beloved,
My soul would likewise have wished to die,
From
the first kiss, which perfumed it.
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8. FRANCESCO PAOLO TOSTI
- 'A Vucchella
Gabriele d'Annunzio
1907
Tosti was born in Naples
and made a great career
as a singer and composer of salon music. He spent twenty years in
London where he became singing master to the children of Queen Victoria
who created him a baronet, and Verdi called him the greatest writer
of the century for the voice. This is a Neapolitan Barcarolle, within
it, the seductive rhythms of the sea, and although Tosti called
it "Arietta di
Posillipo", he wrote it in Folkestone, in 1907.
Si! Comm'a nu sciorillo
tu tiene na vucchella
Nu poco pocorillo
appassuliatella.
Meh.dammillo,
è comm'a na rusella
Dammillo nu vasillo,
dammillo Cannetella.
Dammillo e pigliatillo,
nu vaso piccerillo,
Comm'a chesta
vucchella
Che pare na rusella
Nu poco pocorillo
appassuliatella.
Si...tu tiene
na vucchella
Nu poco pocorillo
appassuliatella.
Yes, young lady, your
mouth is just like a small hazelnut,
and somewhat passionate.
But . give it
to me,.it's just like a rosebud
Give me a little
kiss on the mouth, Cannetella,
Give it to me
and take.. just one small kiss,
Just as your mouth
like a rosebud,
demands.
Yes, your mouth
Is so very, very
passionate.
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9. ENRIQUE GRANADOS
La Maja y el Ruisenor
1916
Granados' only opera
Goyescas, was inspired by thepaintings
of Goya. Every morning, when I was singing Carmen in Madrid, and
after dancing Flamenco and Salsa for half of the night, I would
run to the museums
to gaze at the magnificent paintings of Velazquez, Picasso,
Mirò and of course..Goya, whose ravishing portraits of the
aristocracy were
in such dramatic contrast to his brutal depictions ofwar.
This aria, " The Lover and the Nightingale ", is a passionate outpouring
- almost a premonition of the tragedy which is to follow in the
opera.
"Porqué entre
sombras el ruiseñor entona su armonioso cantar ?
A caso al rey
del dia guarda rencor, y de quiera algun agravio vengar?
Guarda quizas su pecho oculto tal dolor, que en sombra espera alivio
hallar, Triste
entonando cantos de amor, Ay - de amor. Y tal vez
alguna flor temblorosa
del pudor de amar, es la esclava, Es la esclava
enamorada de su
cantor!. Misterio es el cantar que entona envuelto en
sombra el ruiseñor!
Ah! Son los amores como flor, como flor a merced
de la mar. Amor!
Amor! Ah! No hay cantar sin amor. Ah! Ruiseñor: es tu
cantar himno de
amor. Oh ruiseñor!"
Why does the nightingale
pour out his ravishing song in the darkness?
Does he have a
grievance against the king, and try to revenge himself
in this way? See
how deeply he holds his pain within him, and hopes to
find relief in
the depths of the night, Sadly singing his love song!
Somewhere perhaps
there is a rose blushing with modesty at her
thoughts of love,
A slave, enchanted by his song! How mysterious is
the melody which
flows in the darkness of the night. Ah! Loves are
like flowers at
the mercy of the sea. Beloved! I cannot sing without
love. Ah! - it
is you who sings in praise of love, oh Nightingale!
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10. Ernest Chausson
- Le Temps de Lilas,
Maurice Bouchor
- Lilac Time
This song is more often
heard as the last movement of Chausson's ravishing
tone poem for soprano and orchestra - Poème de l'amour et
de la Mer, ...
Love and the Sea. Here it is in the original version written
in 1910. With it's grand and rather lush writing, it is a reminder
of Fantin Latour's fabulous paintings of roses, the visual interpretation
of the Belle Époch, and of those of the the great artist
and engraver Pièrre Joseph Redouté one hundred years
earlier. These
would hardly have seen the light of day without the support of the
Empress Josephine Bonaparte, who, abandoned by Napoleon, consoled
herself with her
roses both new species and old, in her beautiful garden
at Malmaison.
Le temps des lilas et
le temps des roses
Ne reviendra plus
à ce printemps-ci;
Le temps des lilas
et le temps des roses est passé,
Le temps des oeillets
aussi.
Le vent a changé,
les cieux sont moroses,
Et nous n'irons
plus courir, et cueillir
Les lilas en fleur
et les belles roses;
Le printemps est
triste et ne peut fleurir.
Oh! Joyeux et
doux printemps de l'année,
Qui vins, l'an
passé, nous ensoleiller,
Notre fleur d'amour
est si bien fanée,
Las! Que ton baiser
ne peut l'éveiller!
Et toi, que fait-tu?
Pas de fleurs écloses,
Point de gai soleil
ni d'ombrages frais;
Le temps des lilas
et le temps des roses
Avec notre amour
est mort
à jamais
.
The time of lilac and
roses
Will not return
again this Spring;
The lilac and
roses are over,
And the pinks
as well.
The wind has changed,
the skies are overcast,
And we will not
run out again to gather up the gorgeous lilac and
roses; Spring
is sad and cannot flower. Oh! Joyful and sweet Spring of
the year, That
last year's wine enlivened, Our blossoming love is
already faded....
Alas, your kiss cannot awaken it! And what do you
do? With no budding
flowers, No happy sunshine nor fresh clouds; The
time of lilac
and roses Along with our love,
is dead
For always.
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11. E.A.Mario - Le Rose
Rosse
Naples, c.1918.
- Red Roses
This description of
the devastation wrought by the bombs of the first World
War on the fields of roses is especially poignant, because it is
so reminiscent
of our association with poppies. I had always thought of
roses as being grown in beds, but they are of course, cultivated
in fields.....
1.
Tutte le rose
di tutti i roseti
vorrebbe il cuore
soltanto per sè:
tutte le rose
dei giorni più lieti,
or che ogni cuore
più triste non è, e si fan tènere
le bocche, e baciano:
baciano e fremono
tra I prati infior..
Cuore,
so che vuoi goder,
so che vuoi per
te
rose d'ogni colore...
Ma
le rose rosse,
no.
non le voglio
veder!.
Non le voglio
veder!
2.
So d'un giardino che fu devastato,
poi che la guerra
feroce vi entrò:
tutto il terreno
di sangue arrossato,
sangue che tutte
le rose macchiò!
E rosseggiarono,
corolle e petali,
infranti al tepido
bacio del sol...
Cuore,.etc.....
3.
Torni il bel maggio, e il ricordo cancelli
D'un tempo tristo
che alfine passò.
Tutti I colori
più vaghi e più belli
vegga fiorir chi
sofferse ed amò.
Ma non ritornono
Le rossi immagini
Che ci ricordano
tanti dolor!
Cuore,.etc....
1.
All of the roses
in the rose gardens
like to keep your
heart just for themselves:
and all these
roses are blest by happier days
now that hearts
are no longer sad,
and they are held
close to lips, kissed
as they rustle
and flower in their fields...
Dear hearts,
I know that you
long to enjoy them...
That you wish
for roses of every colour..
But
Red roses, no..
I don't ever want
to see those again!
2.
I know a garden
that was devastated
by the ferocious
war which found it's way in:
All of the ground
stained,
by the blood which
left it's mark on the roses!
Turning them crimson,
their stamens
and petals,
shattered by the
sun's
pale kiss...
Hearts etc....
3.
Glorious May returns,
and banishes the memory
Of a sad time
that is over at last...
All the most cherished
and beautiful colours,
A reminder of
the blooms which suffered and loved...
But those scarlet
images
Mustn't return,
With their memories
of so much pain.
Hearts etc....
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12. ROBERT SCHUMANN
- A Red, Red Rose
Robert Burns 1830
O my luve's like a red,
red rose,
That's newly sprung
in June:
O my luve's like
the melodie,
That's sweetly
play'd in tune.
As fair art thou
my bonny lad,
So deep in luve
am I:
And I will luve
thee still, my dear,
'Till a' the seas
gang dry.
'Till a' the seas
gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks
melt wi' the sun.
I will luve thee
still, my dear,
While the sands
of life shall run.
And fare thee
well, my only love!
And fare thee
well awhile!
And 'I will come
again, my love,
Tho' it were ten
thousand mile!
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13. ENGLISH FOLK SONG
- The Seeds of Love
Traditional arr.
Negri
This, the first Folksong
ever to be written down, was heard by the legendary
English collector Cecil Sharp, as sung by the gardener at the
vicarage of Hambridge in Somerset while he was mowing the lawn in
1903. With it's
'garden of love' and the symbolism of it's flowers, this
song would seem to be medieval in origin. The gardener had learned
it in Dorset from the man who was hoeing turnips in the row next
to him. It was heavy work, and they sang to maintain their rythm
in the same way
that slave songs originated in the Mississipi. Our gardener
was made to repeat it over and over until he 'got 'un perfec'.
He was born in 1870, and his name was ......John England.
I sowed the seeds of
love
And I sowed them
in the Spring.
I gathered them
up in the morning so soon
While the small
birds do sweetly sing.
My garden was
planted well
With flowers everywhere
But I had not
the liberty to choose for myself
Of the flowers
that I love so dear.
The gardener was
standing by
And I asked him
to choose for me.
He choosed for
me the Violet, the Lily and the Pink
But those I refused
all three.
The Violet I did
not like
Because it bloomed
so soon.
The lily and the
Pink, I really overthink,
So I vowed I would
stay till June.
In June there
was a red rose bud,
And that's the
flower for me.
I oftentimes have
pluck-ed that red rosebud
Till I gained
the willow tree.
The willow tree
will twist
And the willow
tree will twine.
I oftentimes have
wished I was in that young man's arms
That once had
the heart of mine.
Come all you false
young men,
Do not leave me
here to complain,
For the grass
that has oftentimes been trampled underfoot
Give it time it
will rise up again.
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14. FRANCESCO PAOLO
TOSTI - Ancora qualche rosa è ne' rosai
Gabriele D'Annunzio
Tosti was extremely
discriminating in his use of language
and the texts to which he chose to set his music. Here, in an unedited
song, is another setting of the great Italian poet Gabriele D'Annunzio.
" Still a few roses
left in the rose garden..."
Ancòra qualque
rosa è ne' rosai,
Ancòra
qualque timida erba odora,
Ne l'abbandono
il caro luogo ancora...sorriderà,..se tu sorriderai.
There is still the odd
rose left in the rose garden,
Still the bashful
scent of fresh grass
Even as we abandon
the dear place once more...it will smile..if you
smile too.
Ti dirò.. come
sia dolce il sorriso
Di certe cose
che l'oblio afflisse.
Che proveresti
tu...se ti fiorisse la terra sotto i piedi,.
all'improvviso?
I say to you that..as
sweet as is your smile
There are certain
things that are best left to oblivion.
What would you
do ...if the earth beneath your feet were suddenly to.
Burst into flower,
Quite unexpectedly?
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15. IVOR NOVELLO - Music
in May
Christopher Hassall
( 1936)
Novello's melodramatic
love story "Careless
Rapture" was set in London and China, and first produced at the
Theatre Royal, Drury Lane in 1936. This is, without doubt, one of
his best numbers.
All the Winter thro'
I've sat alone
and thought of you
While lazy hours
on the clock dragged by.
Ev'ry day, though
long as a year and sad as a sigh,
Brought happiness
near;
For soon as early
spring
Awoke the birds
and made them sing
Of all the joys
that are born anew,
Winter and sorrow
took wing,
And my old desire
began to burn,
I dreamed of your
return
And found it was
true.......
The first music
in May
Sings to my heart
"Live for today",
'Tis a sigh
Floating by
That whispers
a warning,
New rapture is
dawning.
That song calls
us away,
Just you and I,
We must obey.
Now's our chance
for romance
Let's follow the...
Music in May.
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16. JOHANN STRAUSS -
Röte Rose
Das Spitzentuch
der Konigin
Strauss wrote his operetta
"The Queen's Lace Handkerchief" for the Theater
an der Wien, Vienna, in1880. Set in Portugal to a plot by Cervantes,
Suppè had originally refused the project, but may have regretted
it, for the "Waltz King" turned it into an enormous success!
This luscious, slow waltz, was conceived as a duet.
Röte Rose, du sprichst
fur sie: "Heut' oder nie! Liebe blüht
dir heute
oder nie!" Was
noch mein mund dir zögernd verschweight, die Blüme
sagt
es leis. Und der
Duft, der zart dem Kelche entsteigt, gibt mein
Geheimnis preis!
Ach! Röte Rose, du sagst für
sie: "Ja, heut oder
nie!" Heut seh'
ich dich noch einmal oder nie! Die Geigen klangen
süss
und voll, mein Blut war wie im Fieber toll. Sirenen-gleich zög's
lokkend durch
den Raum, mir blühte
auf ein schöner Traum. Ein heisser
Rausch mich damals
bezwang In nächtlicher Stünde
bei Walzer-klang. Sie
hörten night
den Sehnsuchtsruf der Seele. Heut' seh' ich dich noch
einmal oder nie!
Red Rose, you speak
for yourself:
"Today or never..Love
blossoms ....now or never"
What my lips hesitate
to say,
The flower mentions
lightly.
And the perfume
which wafts so gently from the vase has a secret
price! The violins
play sweet and richly, my blood is on fire...
Siren-like she
leads us gently around the room in a sweet dream. A
fiery ecstasy
takes me over in the hours of the night as we waltz. You
scarcely hear
the Soul's longing call.
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17. EDUARDO DI CAPUA
I' te vurria vasa
V. Russo 1920
Another Neapolitan Barcarolle,
in the form of a slow and seductive walz,
and penned by the doyen of all of the composers of the genre. Di
Capua also wrote
"Torna a Surriento" (Return to Sorrento), and "Funiculi,
Funicula" as a celebration of the opening of the Neapolitan funicular
railway. This connected the port with the sensational views of
Capodimonte whose 18th Century porcelain factory rivalled that of
Madame de Pompadour's
outside Paris; (she also loved to surround herself
with porcelain roses!)
When Emma Hamilton and
Nelson first met, Emma was married to the English
Consul, and Nelson had put into port with the English fleet.
Hamilton insisted that
all of his servants were able to sing or play an
instrument, and that this was more important than their household
duties! They all attended
the Court of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies..
Naples and Palermo. The Neapolitan dialect was already a
reflection of the extraordinary
cauldron of influences to be found there,
most clearly demonstrated in the music, the dance (with tambourines),
and in the cooking!
Naples was and still
is, a very important naval base, and its language sounds
at times like French, with Spanish, Moorish from the Arabic and
the gypsies of
central Europe, thrown in. The rhythms of Neapolitan song
are not so far from the slow, erotic Tangos of Argentina with all
of it's Italian
(seafaring) connections, and in the Middle Ages Palermo,
just across the water from Naples, was the only place in Europe,
or indeed anywhere else, in which it was possible to study both
Greek and Arabic simultaneously, as well as Latin.
Ah! che bell'aria fresca,
Ch'addore 'e malvarosa,
E tu durmenno
staje
Ncopp'a sti ffronne
'e rosa!
'O sole poco a
poco
pe stu ciardino
sponte;
'o viento passa
e vasa
stu ricciulillo
nfronte.
I' te vurria vasà..I'
te vurria
vasà. Ma 'o core
nun m' 'o ddice 'e
te scetà,
e te scetà. I' me vurria
addurmi, I' me vurria
addurmi
Vicino 'o sciato tujo
N'ora pur'
I'.N'ora pur' I'.
Ah! what lovely cool
air,
With a scent of
Malvarosa,
And you asleep
In a bower of
roses.
The sun, little
by little
Spreads through
the garden;
And I pass by
and kiss you
On your brow.
I long to kiss you.How
I long to
kiss you. But my heart
tells me to
stay calm, I long to
sleep, Near to
you For ever and ever...
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18. de Louiguy La Vie
en Rose
Edith Piaf 1946
The unforgettable lyrics
of Madame Piaf say everything, and need no introduction.
Neither does the wonderful melody....Both, are completely
memorable.
Des yeux qui font
baissers les miens.
- Those eyes, which
make me lower mine.
Un rir' qui
se perd sur la bouch',
-That
laugh, which vanishes
on the lips.
Voilà ... Voilà...
Le portrait sans retouch',
- The unretouched portrait
De l'homme auquel j'appartiens.
- Of the man to whom I belong.
Quand il me prends dans ses bras
- When he takes me in his arms
Il me parle tout bas
- He murmurs to me
Je vois la vie en rose
- I see life "en rose".
Il me dit des mots d'amour
- He speaks so lovingly.
Des mots de tous les jours
- In everyday words .
Et ça m'fait quelque
chose.
- And that does things to me.
Il est entré
dans mon coeur,
- He has opened
my heart,
Une part de bonheur,
- To a share of happiness,
Dont je connais
la cause.
- Of which, I alone know the cause.
C'est lui par moi, Moi par lui dans la vie
- He is for me, I am for him In this life.
Il me l'a dit, l'a juré, pour la vie.
- He tells me so, has
sworn it, for
life.
Et, dès que je l'aperçois
- And, as soon as I realise it
Alors je sens
en moi
- Then inside myself.
I feel..
Mon coeur qui bat.
- My heart beating.
Des nuits d'amour
à en mourir
- The nights of
love to die for,
Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place,
- A great happiness Which
just happens.
Les ennuies,
les chagrins s'effacent,
- Erasing all
sadness And tedium,
Heureux, heureux pour mon plaisir.
- Happy, happy at my own pleasure.
Quand il me
prend dans ses bras...
- When he takes
me in his arms
- He speaks to
me so softly...and
I see,
la vie..en
rose.
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With many thanks to
Julia Owen in Rome, for her guidance on the Neapolitan
songs and history. And with much gratitude to the English Folksong
and Dance Society at Cecil Sharp House, for all of their help with
the folksongs, and for the use of their remarkable library in Central
London.
This album was recorded
in Milan on 12,
18 and 21 of February 2004, at Belmusic
Studios S.R.L. 20133 Milano,
Italy. Sound engineering by Patrick
Pecchinini.
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