On this Island, Op.11 (1937)
Benjamin Britten
(1913- 1976)
Text by W.H. Auden

I.“Let the florid music praise!”

Let the florid music praise, 
The Flute and the trumpet,
Beauty’s conquest of your face:
In that la d of flesh and bone,
Where from citadels on high
Her imperial standards fly,
Let the hot sun Shine on, 
Shine on

O but the unlov’d have had power,
The weeping and striking,
Always, always;
Time will bring their hour:
Their secretive children walk
Through your vigilance of breath
To unpardonable death,
And my vows break
Before his look.

II.“Now the leaves are falling fast”

Now the leaves are falling fast,
Nurses flowers will not last;
Nurses to the graves are gone,
And the prams go rolling on.

Whisp’ring neighbours, left and right ,
Pluck us from the real delight;
And the active hands must freeze
Lonley on the sep’rate knees.

Dead in hundreds at the back
Follow wooden in our track,
Arms raised stiffly to reprove
In false attitudes of love.

Starving through the leafless wood
Trolls run scolding for their food
And the nightingale is dumb,
And the Angel will not come.

Cold, impossible, ahead
Lifts the mountain’s lovely head
Whose white waterfall could bless…
Travellers in their last distress.

III. “Seascape”

Look, stranger, at this island now
The leaping light for your delight discovers.
Stand stable here 
And silent be,

That through channels of the ear 
May wander like a river
The swaying sound of the sea.

Here at the small field’s ending pause
Where the Chalk wall falls to the foam,
And its tall ledges 
Oppose the pluck 
And knock of the tide,

And the shingle scrambles after the sucking surf,
and the gull lodges 
A moment on its sheer side
Far off like floating seeds the ships
Diverge on urgent voluntary errands:

And the full view
Indeed may enter
And move in memory as now these clouds do,
That pass the harbour mirror
And all the summer through the water saunter,
through the water saunter.

IV. “Nocturne”

Now thro’ night’s caressing grip
Earth and all her oceans slip,
Capes of China slide away
From her fingers into day
And th’Americas incline
Coasts towards her shadow line.

Now the ragged vagrants creep 
Into crooked holes to sleep:
Just and unjust, worst and best,
Change their places as they rest:
Awkward lovers lie in fields
Where disdainful beauty yields:

While the splendid and the proud
Naked stand before the crowd
And the losing gambler gains
And the beggar entertains:

May sleep’s healing power extend
Through these hours to our friend.

Unpursued by hostile force,
Traction engine, bull or horse
Or revolting succubus;

Calmly till the morning break
Let him lie,
Then gently wake

V. “As it is, plenty”

As it is, plenty;
As it’s admitted
The children happy 
And the car, the car
That goes so far…
And the wife devoted:

To this as it is, 
To the work and the banks
Let his thinning hair 
And his hauteur
Give thanks, give thanks.

All that was thought 
As like as not, is not;
When nothing was enough 
But love, but love 
And the rough future
Of an intransigent nature
And the betraying smile,
Betraying, but a smile:
That that is not;
Forget, 
Forget,
Forget.

Let him not cease to praise
Then his spacious days;
Yes, and the success
Let him bless, let him bless:

Let him see in this
The profits larger
And the sins venal,
Lest he see as it is
The loss as major
And final, final, final, final, final, final.

Písne milostné (Love Songs), Op.83 (1888)
Antonín Dvořák
(1841-1904)
Text by Gustav Pfleger-Moravský
Translation by Timothy Cheek

III. Kol domu se ted’ potácím

Kol domu se ted' potácím, 
kdes bydlívala dříve,
A z lásky rány krvácím, 
lásky sladké, lživé!

A smutným okem nazírám, 
zdaž ke mně vedeš kroku:
A vstříc Ti náruč otvírám, 
však slzu cítím v oku!

Ó, kde jsi, drahá, kde jsi dnes,
Což nepřijdeš mi vstříce?
Což nemám v srdci slast a ples,
tě uzřít nikdy více?

III. Now I am staggering outside the house 

Now I am staggering outside the house 
where you used to live,
and from the wounds of love I bleed, 
of sweet, false love!

And with sad eyes I look on
to see if you are taking a step toward me:
and facing you, I open my arms,
but I feel a tear in my eye!

Oh, where are you, where are you today,
Why won’t you come to me?
Why don’t I have in my heart bliss and rejoicing;
I won’t see you ever again?

IV. Já vím, že v sladké naději

Já vím, že v sladké naději tě smím přec milovat;
a že chceš tím horoucněji 
mou lásku pěstovat.

A přec, když nazřím očí tvých
v tu přerozkošnou noc
a zvím jak nebe lásky
z nich na mne snáší moc
tu moje oko slzamí, 
tu náhle se obstírá,
neb v štěstí naše 
za námi zlý osud pozírá!

IV. I know that in sweet hope

I know that in sweet hope I may yet love you;
and that therefore you want, even more ardently,
to cultivate my love.

And yet, when I behold your eyes 
on this blissful night,

and I learn how the bliss of love 
from them alights so much onto me:

now my eyes are with tears,
now they are suddenly dry,

for in our happiness 
evil fate gazes behind us.

VI. Zde v lese u potoka

Zde v lese u potoka já stojím sám a sám;
A ve potoka vlny v myšlenkách pozírám.

Tu vidím starý kámen, nad nímž se vlny dmou;
Ten kámen, ten kámen stoupá, padá bez klidu pod vlnou.

A proud se oň opírá, až kámen zvrhne se.
Kdy vlna života mne ze světa odnese,
Kdy, ach, vlna života mne odnese?

VI. Here in the forest at the Brook

Here in the forest at the brook I am all alone;
and deep in thought I stare at the waves in the brook.

Now I see an old stone, over which the waves swell;
the stone, the stone rises and falls without rest under the wave.

And current bears down on it until the rock topples over.
When will the wave of life carry me away from the world,
When, ah, will the wave of life carry me away?

VIII. Ó, duše drahá jedinká

Ó, duše drahá, jedinká, jež v srdci žiješ dosud:
má oblétá tě myšlenka, ač nás dělí zlý osud.

Ó, kéž jsem zpěvnou labutí, já zaletěl bych k tobě;
A v posledním bych vzdechnutí
ti vypěl srdce v mdlobě,
ach, ve posledním bych vzdechnutí.

VIII. Oh, dear soul, one-and-only

Oh, dear soul, one-and-only, you who live ever in my heart:
My thought circles round you, though evil fate divides us. 

Oh, if only I were a singing swan, I would fly to you;
and in my last gasp,
I would sing out my heart to you in fainting,
ah, in my last gasp.

I Poemi del Sole
Francesco Santoliquido
(1883- 1971)

I. Un’ora di sole

Oh! Bel Sole d’Anacapri, dolce e triste per I clivi degli ulivi 

Campanelle della sera, 
case bianche al par di neve, di neve

Io vi porto nel cuore!
E vi penso con triste nostalgia.
O bei clivi, fioriti di rose selvaggie.

Oh! come il vostro fascino mole e la vostra vaga tristeza m’avincono!

Oh! bel Sole d’Anacapri,
O Sole dolce, O finchi d’India addormentati!

O campanelle della sera!
Rose selvaggie!
O bel mare lontano!
Oggi io ripenso la vostra vaga malinconia.

Ah! Ah! Ah!
Oh! bel Sole d’Anacapri, io ti porto nel cor!

I. An hour of sunshine

Oh! Beautiful sun of Anacapri, sweet and sad for the
cliffs of the olive trees

Bells of the evening,
White houses in the semblance of snow, of snow

I carry you in my heart!
And I think of you with sad nostalgia.
O beautiful cliffs, blooming with wild roses.

Oh! how your mole charm and your vague sadness win me over!

O beautiful Sun of Anacapri,
O sweet Sun, O sleeping Indian finches!

O evening bells!
Wild roses!
Oh beautiful distant sea!
Today I think back your vague melancholy.

Ah! Ah! Ah!
Oh! beautiful Anacapri Sun, I carry you in my heart!

II. Riflessi

Oh! bel riflessi di Sole
o bei riflessi gialli e rossi
che illuminate il giardino
come un immense fuoco artificiale

Inondate anche me
di vostre called fosforescenze d’or

Io scorgo in voi miriadi di stelle,
Io scorgo in voi mi riadi di faville,
Lucciole e perle, Rubini e smeraldi!

Ed I miei occhi stanchi s’accecano ai vostri bagliori,
E la mia anima beve 
ed il mio cor s’ubriaca
di luce e di colori!

Oh! bei riflessi di sole,
Barbagli rossi di fiamme ardenti Splendete!

Ho bisogno di voi, Splendete!
Inondate il ruscello,
La vasca del giardino,
Le foglie matturtine
D’una pioggia d’or!

II. Reflections

Oh! beautiful reflections of sun!
Oh lovely reflections, yellow and red,
that illuminate the garden
like an immense artificial fire.
Flood me also
with your hot phosphorescence of gold.

I glimpse in you myriads of stars,
I glimpse in you myriads of sparks,
Fireflies and pearl, rubies and emeralds!
And my tired eyes
are blinded [by] your flares,
And my soul drinks
and my heart is drunk
with light and color!

Oh! beautiful reflections of sun,
Red flashing of burning flames,
Shine! I need you,
Shine! Flood the brook,
the basin of the garden,
The morning leaves with a deluge of gold!

III. Nel Giardino

Un’ ora dolce passa sul giardino, 
Un’ ora piena di silenzio e di pace,

Tutta inondata dal profumo dei Fiori.
La fontana sit ace ed I viali son deserti,
inoltriamo: non c’è che il Sole.

Un sole giallo, che ci guarda e sorride, 
E non ripeterà le parole divine,
che ci sussurreremo inebriati!

Ah! Vien! Sediamoci qui
Un’ ora dolce passa sul giardino.

III. In the Garden

A 'sweet hour passes over the garden, 
An 'hour full of silence and peace,

All flooded with the scent of Flowers.
The fountain sit ace and The avenues are deserted,
We forward: there is but the Sun.

A yellow sun, looking at us and smiling, 
And will not repeat the divine words,
That we'll whisper to each other inebriated!

Ah, come! Let us sit here
A 'sweet hour passes over the garden.

IV. Sole D’autuno

Sole d’autuno! Delle tristezze,
Pallido nume delle foglie morte,
Voglio cantar di te.

Le tue dolcezze meravigliose e le tue fiamme smorte mi fioriscono in cuore.

Oh! fioriture di gigli rossi tra le felci!

Il folle ardore è in voi delle capigliature che ho baciato ne’sogni!

Le corolla nel tuo lume si sfrondano o sbincato sole di morte,

Che fai pur fiorire nel cuore di chi ha pianto nel passato,
Una smania d’amare e di morire.

Sole d’autuno!
Redelle tristezze, tragico nume delle cose morte,

Come un malato nelle tue carezze
voglio avvivare le mie fiamme smorte!

Voglio accendere I sogni come fari,

Nel sangue dei cre puscoli autunali.
Sole d’autuno!
Fiori solitary. Dolci profumi!
Aurore trionfali!

IV. Autumn Sun 

Sun of autumn! Of sorrows,
Pale deity of dead leaves,
I want to sing of thee.

Your wondrous sweetnesses and dull flames bloom in my heart.

Oh! blooms of red lilies among the ferns!

The mad ardor is in you Of the hairs I kissed in dreams!

The corollas in your light peel away O sbincato sun of death,

That you make yet bloom in the hearts of those who have wept in the past,
An eagerness to love and to die.

Sun of autumn!
Redell sadnesses, tragic deity of dead things,

Like a sick man in your caresses
I want to avivate my dull flames!

I want to kindle The dreams like beacons,In the blood of cre autumnal streams.
Autumn sun!
Flowers solitary. Sweet scents!
Triumphant auroras!

Richard Strauss
(1864- 1949)

I. Morgen
Text by John Henry Mackay (1864-1933)

Und morgen wird die Sonne wieder scheinen
Und auf dem Wege,
Den ich gehen werde, wird uns, die Glüklichen,
sie wieder einen inmitten dieser sonnenatmenden Erde…

Und zu dem Strand, dem weiten, wogenblauen, werden
wir still und langsam niedersteigen.

Stumm warden wir uns in die Augen schauen, und auf
uns sinkt des Glükkes stummes Schweigen…

I. Morning
Translation by Philip L. Miller

And tomorrow the sun will shine again,
and on the path that I shall follow
it will reunite us, the blessed ones,
amidst this sun-breathing world…

And to the shore, broad and blue with the waves,
we shall go down quietly and slowly.
Mute, we shall look into each other’s eyes,
And upon us will descend the great silence of happiness.

II. Nachtgang
Text by Otto Julius Bierbaum(1865-1910)

Wir gingen durch die stille milde Nacht, dein Arm in meinem,
Dein Auge in meinem. 

Der Mond goss silbernes Licht über dein Angesicht, wie auf Goldgrund ruhte dein schönes Haupt.

Und du erschienst mir wie eine Heilige, mild, mild und gross und seelenübervoll,heilig und rein wie die liebe Sonne.

Und in die Augen schwoll mir ein warmer Drang wie Tränen ahnung .

Fester faßt’ ich dich und küsste, küsste dich ganz leise.

Meine Seele weinte.

A Walk at Night
Translation by Richard Stokes

We walked through the gentle silent night, your arm in mine, your eyes gazing into mine; 

The moon shed silver light over your face; as though on gold your fair head lay, 

and you seemed to me like a saint: gentle, gentle and great, with a brimming soul holy and pure like the dear sun.

And pressing warmth welled into my eyes, like impending tears.

I held you closer and kissed you – kissed you so gently – my soul wept.

III. Ich trage meine Minne
Text by Karl Friedrich Henckell (1864-1929)

Ich trage meine Minne vor Wonne stumm im Herzen und im Sinn emit mir herum.

Ja, dass ich dich gefunden, du liebes Kind das freut mich alle Tage, die mir beschieden sind.

Und ob auch der Himmel trübe, kohlschwarz die Nacht, hell leuchtet meiner Liebe goldsonige Pracht.

Und lügt auch die Welt in Sünden, so tut mir’s weh, die arge muss erblinden vor deiner Unschuld, deiner Unschuld Schnee.

Ich trage meine Minne vor Wonne stumm im Herzen und im Sinn emit mir herum.

Ja, dass ich dich gefunden, du liebes Kind das freut mich alle Tage, die mir beschieden sind.

III. I Bear My Love
Translation by Richard Stokes

I bear my love In silent bliss
About with me In heart and mind.

Yes, that I have found you, Sweet child,
Will cheer me all My allotted days.

Though the sky be dim, And the night pitch-black, My love shines brightly In golden splendor.

And though the world lies and sins, And it hurts to see it so –
The bad world must be blinded By your snowy innocence.

I bear my love In silent bliss
About with me In heart and mind.

Yes, that I have found you, Sweet child,
Will cheer me all My allotted days.

IV. Heimliche Aufforderung
Text by John Henry Mackay (1864- 1933)

Auf, hebe die funkelnde Schale empor zum Mund, und trinke beim Freudenmahle dein Herz gesund.

Und wenn du sie hebst, 
So winke mir Heimlich zu, 
Dann lächle ich und dann trinke ich still wie du…

Und still gleich mir betrachte um uns das Heer der trunken Schwätzer
verachte sie nicht zu sehr. 

Nein, hebe die blinkende Schale, gefüllt mit Wein, und laß beim lärmenden Mahle die glüklich sein. 

Doch hast du das Mahl genossen,
den Durst gestillt, dann verlasse der lauten Genossen festfreudiges Bild

und wandle hinaus in den Garten zum Rosenstrauch, dort will ich dich dann erwarten nach altem Brauch, 

und will an die Brust dir sinken, eh’ du’s gehofft, und deine Küsse trinken, wie ehmals oft 

und flechten in deine Haare der Rose Pracht, o komm, du wunderbare ersehnte Nacht, o komm du wunderbare ersehnte Nacht.

Secret Invitation
Translation by Philip L. Miller

Up, raise the sparkling bowl to your lips,
And drink at the feast, that your heart may be healed.

And as you lift it up, give me a secret sign,
then I shall smile and drink silently as you.

And, silent as I, consider around us the crowd of drunken babblers – do not despise them too much;

no, raise the glittering bowl, filled with wine, and let them at their noisy meal be happy.

But when you have had your fill and quenched your thirst,
Then leave your loud companions to their festive scene.

And go out into the garden, to the rosebush,
there I will be waiting for you, as I used to do…

And will sink upon your breast before you expect it, and drink your kisses as I often used to do,

and will twine in your hair the splendor of the rose – O come, wondrous, longed-for night!