JOHANNES BRAHMS: “Vergebliches Ständchen”
(He) Good evening, my treasure, good evening, sweet girl!
I come from love of you, Ah, open the door, open the door for me!
(She) My door is locked, and I won't let you in:
My mother has advised me well! If you came in, It would all be over for me!
(He) The night is so cold, and the wind so icy
that my heart will freeze, and my love will be extinguished! Open for me, sweet girl!
(She) If your love starts dying, then let it be extinguished!
If it keeps dying, go home to bed, and rest! Good night, my boy!
JOHANNES BRAHMS: “Sonntag”
This whole week, I have not
Seen my delicate sweetheart.
I saw her on Sunday,
Standing in front of the door:
That thousand-times beautiful girl,
That thousand-times beautiful heart,
Would, God, I were with her today!
This whole week, my laughing
Has not ceased;
I saw her on Sunday,
Going to church:
That thousand-times beautiful girl,
That thousand-times beautiful heart,
Would, God, I were with her today!
F. P. TOSTI: “Aprile”
Do you not smell on the air the wafting perfume of Spring?
Do you not hear in your soul the tunes of a new coaxing voice?
It is April—the season of love:
Come! Come, my love, into the blooming fields...
Your paths are strewn with violets, you will dress with roses and bluebells,
and pure white butterflies will dance lightly around your hair.
It is April! It's the season of love!
Come! o my love, into the blooming fields!
GABRIEL FAURE: “La Papillon et la Fleur”
The poor flower kept saying to the airborne butterfly:
"Don't fly away! Our destinies are different: I stay put, you travel!
Yet we love one another, we live without human beings, remote from them;
and we resemble one another—some say that both of us are flowers.
But alas! The breeze carries you off, while the earth ties me down—what a cruel fate!
I would like my breath to perfume your flight in the sky!
But no, you travel too far! Visiting countless flowers, you fly away,
while I remain alone watching my shadow circle at my feet.
You go, then you come back, then you fly off again to shine elsewhere.
So every morning you find me bathed in tears!
Ah please, so that our love may glide along faithfully (oh my king!),
take root like me—or else give me wings like you!"
JOAQUIN RODRIGO: “¿De dónde venís, amore?”
From where have you come, lover? Well do I know from where!
From where have you come, my friend? Perhaps I will tell!
GAETANO DONIZETTI: “Quanto e bella” from L’elisir d’amore
How beautiful she is, how dear she is!
The more I see her the more I like her.
But in that heart I am not capable to inspire mild affection.
She reads, studies, learns...
I don’t see that she ignores anything.
I am always an idiot; I do not know but to sigh.
Who will clear my mind?
Who will teach me how to make myself beloved?
