Tekster

Ostinato vo’ seguire

Ostinato vo’ seguire
La magnanima mia impresa:
Fame, Amor, qual voi offesa,
S’io dovesse ben morire,
Ostinato vo’ seguire
La magnanima mia impresa.

Fame, Ciel, fame, Fortuna,
Bene o male como a te piace:
Né piacer né ingiuria alcuna
Per avilirmi o far più audace:
Che de l’un non son capace,
L’altro più non po’ fuggire.
Ostinato vo’ seguire
La magnanima mia impresa.

Vinca o perda, io non l’attendo
De mia impresa altro che onore:
Sopra il ciel beato ascendo
S’io ne resto vincitore;
S’io la perdo, alfin gran core
Mostrarà l’alto desire.
Ostinato vo’ seguire
La magnanima mia impresa

Resolutely I shall pursue

Resolutely I shall pursue
My great and noble venture:
Love, do your worst to me
And I shall die a good death.
Resolutely I shall pursue
My great and noble venture.

Heaven and Fate, do me
Good or ill as you please:
No joy or injustice can
Dishearten or embolden me:
For one is beyond me,
The other I can't escape.
Resolutely I shall pursue
My great and noble venture.

Win or lose, I expect nothing
From my venture than honour:
I'll rise to the bliss of heaven
If I am the one who wins her;
If I lose her, to the end, my heart
Will show the upmost passion.
Resolutely I shall pursue
My great and noble venture.

Quella bella e biancha mano

Quella bella bianca mano
Che m´accora e po sanarmi
Che per me non trovo altre armi
Che la bella e bianche mano

Se 'l mio foco che sepolto
E mia fe non te palesa
Guarda el biancho e nero volto
Che vedrai la fiamma accesa
Non chiamo altro a mia diffesa
Che la bella e biancha mano
R.

Ma da poi ch'Amor m'a gionto
Con suoi inganni a un sì bel nodo
Benedico l'hora e il ponto
Che mi spinse ove mi godo
E se io mor, morendo io lodo
Che la bella e biancha mano
R.

That beautiful and fair hand

That beautiful and fair hand
Which breaks my heart and can heal me,
Finds for me no other weapons
Than the beautiful and fair hand...

If my buried fire
and my faith can't show it,
Look at the white and black face
And you will see a burning flame.
I don't call anyone in my defense
Than the beautiful and fair hand....

But since Love tied me
With his deceptions in a knot,
I bless the time and the place
That led me where I am happy.
And if I die, dying I praise
Than that beautiful and fair hand....

Zefiro spira e il bel tempo rimena

Zefiro spira e il bel tempo rimena,
Amor promette gaudio agli animali.

Ognun vive contento, io me lamento
Ch’amor m’ha fatto albergo di tormento.

L’ampia campagna de bei fiori è piena,
Ogni cor si prepara ai dolci strali.

Ognun vive contento, io me lamento
Ch’amor m’ha fatto albergo di tormento.

Progne scordata de l’antica pena,
Verso il nostro orizzonte spiega l’ali.

Ognun vive contento, io me lamento
Ch’amor m’ha fatto albergo di tormento.

Zefiro exspires and the good weather remains

Zephyr exspires and the good weather remains,
Cupid promises joy to animals.

Everyone lives happy, I complain
Love has made me a hotel of torment.

The wide countryside is full of beautiful flowers,
Each heart prepares for the sweet arrows.

Everyone lives happy, I complain
Love has made me a hotel of torment.

Forgotten Progne* of the ancient punishment,
Towards our horizon she unfolds her wings.

Everyone lives happy, I complain
Love has made me a hotel of torment.

*Procne was an Athenian princess as the elder daughter of a king of Athens named Pandion.

She married King Tereus of Thrace and became the mother of Itys.

Procne's beautiful sister Philomela visited the couple and was raped by Tereus, who tore out her tongue to prevent her revealing the crime. She wove a tapestry which made it clear what had been done, and the two women took their revenge.

Procne killed Itys, boiled him and served him as a meal to her husband. After he had finished his meal, the sisters presented Tereus with the severed head of his son, and he realised what had been done. He snatched up an axe and pursued them with the intent to kill the sisters.

They fled but were almost overtaken by Tereus. In desperation, they prayed to the gods to be turned into birds and escape Tereus' rage and vengeance. The gods transformed Procne into a swallow, Philomela into a nightingale and Tereus into a hoopoe.

O mia cieca e dura sorte

O mia cieca e dura sorte
Di dolor sempre nutrita,
O miseria di mia vita
Tristo anuncio a la mia morte.

Più dolente e più infelice
Son che alcun che viva in terra.
L'arbor son che il vento atterra
Perché più non à radice.
Vero è ben quel che se dicembre
Che mal va chi à mala sorte.
O mia cieca e dura sorte...

La cagion de tanto male
È fortuna e il crudo amore
Per che sempre de bon core
Servit'ho con fé immortale
La qual hor sciato ha l'ale
E bandita da ogni corte.
O mia cieca e dura sorte...

Perché un viver duro e grave
Grave e dur morir conviene,
Finir voglio in pianti e pene
Come in scoglio fa la nave
Ch'al fin rompe ogni suo trave
Poi che un tempo è stata forte.
O mia cieca e dura sorte...

Piglia esempio ognun che vede
Scritto in la mia tomba oscura
Se ben son for di natura
Morto son per troppo fede
Per mi mai non fu mercede
Pietà m'ha chiuse le porte.
O mia cieca e dura sorte…

O my blind and cruel fate

O my blind and cruel fate,
Ever nourished by my pain;
O wretchedness of this my life,
Sad presage of my death.

I have more pain and more unhappiness
Than any living creature on this earth.
I am the tree that the wind blows down
Since it no longer has its roots.
Truly the saying goes:
Ill luck takes him who is out of fortune’s favour.

O my blind and cruel fate…

The cause of all this grief
Is fate and cruel love,
For always with a good heart
I have served, and with true constancy,
The one who cut my wings
And banished me from every court.

O my blind and cruel fate…

Since my life is harsh and heavy
A harsh and heavy death is fitting
I face my end in tears and torment
Like a ship that is wrecked on the rocks.
Finally broken are all its beams
Though once it was fine and strong.

O my blind and cruel fate..

Everyone who watches takes an example
Written in my dark grave
If I feel good by nature
I died for too much faith
For me it was never a reward
pity has closed the doors to me.
O my blind and hard fate

Non è tempo d’aspettare

Non è tempo d’aspettare
Quando s’ha bonazza e vento
Non è tempo d’aspettare
Quando s’ha bonazza e vento
Che si vede in un momento
Ogni cosa variare
Non è tempo d’aspettare
Quando s’ha bonazza e vento

Se tu sali fa pur presto
Lassa dir che dire vuole
Questo è noto e manifesto
Che non durano le viole
E la neve al caldo sole
Sòle in acqua ritornare
Non è tempo d’aspettare
Quando s’ha bonazza e vento

Non aspecti alcun che volti
Questa rotta instabilita
Molti sono stati accolti
Nel condur dela lor vita
Non è tempo d'aspettare
Quando s'ha bonazza e vento

Now is not the time for waiting

Now is not the time for waiting
When the weather is fine and breezy
Now is not the time for waiting
When the weather is fine and breezy
When in an instant
Everything can change
Now is not the time for waiting
When the weather is fine and breezy

If you are leaving, make it quick,
Say what you have to say
It goes without saying
That violets don't last long
And snow under the hot sun
Usually becomes water again
Now is not the time for waiting
When the weather is fine and breezy

Don't wait for things to turn
On the wheel of change
Many are taken onboard
As they go through life
Now is not the time for waiting
When the weather is fine and breezy

English translation by Paul Archer

Come away , come sweet love

Come away , come sweet love
The golden morning breaks
All the earth, all the air
Of love and pleasure speaks:
Teach thine arms then to embrace
And sweet
Rosy
Lips to kiss
And mix our souls in mutual bliss
Eyes were made for beauty's grace
Viewing
Rueing
Love's long pain
Procur'd by beauty's rude disdain

Come away , come sweet love
The golden morning wastes
While the sun from his spere
His fiery arrows casts:
Making all the shadows fly
Playing
Staying
In the grove
To entertain the stealth of love
Thither sweet love let us hie
Flying
Dying
In desire
Wing'd with sweet hopes and heav'nly fire

Come away , come sweet love
Do not in vain adorn
Beauty's grace , that should rise
Like to the naked morn:
Lilies on the river's side
And fair
Cyprian
Flow'rs new-blown
Desire no beauties but their own
Ornament is nurse of pride
Pleasure
Measure
Love's delight:
Haste then sweet love our wished flight

Shall I Sue

Shall I sue, shall I seek for grace?
Shall I pray shall I prove?
Shall I strive to a heav'nly joy,
With an earthly love?

Shall I think that a bleeding heart
Or a wounded eye,
Or a sigh can ascend the clouds,
To attain so high?

Silly wretch, forsake these dreams
Of a vain desire,
O bethink what high regard
Holy hopes do require.

Favour is as fair as things are,
Treasure is not bought,
Favour is not won with words,
Nor the wish of a thought.

Justice gives each man his own,
Though my love be just,
Yet will not she pity my grief,
Therefore die I must.

Silly heart then yield to die
Perish in despair,
Witness yet how fain I die,
When I die for the fair.

Away With These Self-loving Lads

Away with these self-loving lads,
Whom Cupid’s arrow never glads!
Away, poor souls, that sigh and weep
In love of them that lie and sleep!
For Cupid is a meadow god
And forceth none to kiss the rod.

God Cupid’s shaft, like destiny,
Doth either good or ill decree.
Desert is born out of his bow,
Reward upon his foot doth go.
What fools are they that have not known
That Love likes no laws but his own!

My songs they be of Cynthia’s praise;
I wear her rings on holidays,
On every tree I write her name,
And every day I read the same.
Where Honour Cupid’s rival is
There miracles are seen of his.

If Cynthia crave her ring of me,
I blot her name out of the tree.
If doubt do darken things held dear,
Then well fare nothing once a year!
For many run, but one must win;
Fools, only, hedge the cuckoo in.

The worth that worthiness should move
Is love, which is the bow of Love.
And love as well the foster can
As can the mighty nobleman.
Sweet saint, ’tis true you worthy be,
Yet without love naught worth to me.

Flow, my tears

Flow, my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled for ever, let me mourn
Where night's black bird her sad infamy sings
There let me live forlorn

Down vain lights, shine you no more
No nights are dark enough for those
That in despair their last fortunes deplore
Light doth but shame disclose

Never may my woes be relieved
Since pity is fled
And tears and sighs and groans my weary days, my weary days
Of all joys have deprived

From the highest spire of contentment
My fortune is thrown
And fear and grief and pain for my deserts, for my deserts
Are my hopes, since hope is gone

Hark! you shadows that in darkness dwell
Learn to contemn light
Happy, happy they that in hell
Feel not the world's despite

COME AGAIN SWEET LOVE

Come again
Sweet love doth now invite
Thy graces that refrain
To do me due delight
To see, to hear
To touch, to kiss
To die with thee again
In sweetest sympathy

Come again
That I may cease to mourn
Through thy unkind disdain
For now left and forlorn
I sit, I sigh
I weep, I faint
I die, in deadly pain
And endless misery

Out alas
My faith is ever true
Yet will she never rue
Nor yield me any grace;
Her eyes of fire
Her heart of flint
Is made, whom tears nor truth
Nor truth may once invade

Gentle love
Draw forth thy wounding dart:
Thou canst not pierce her heart;
For I that do approve
By sighs and tears
More hot than are
Thy shafts, did tempt
While she for triumphs laughs.

Renaissance love songs lead us into the dark night of human despair, to draw us forth into the light of hope, joy and love.

The power of renaissance love songs lies in their capacity to reach the strength and weakness

of the human heart, mind and soul.

All the facts of human nature come forth and remind us of the comlpex nature of love.

Not only is it a passionate journey back to the Renaissance, it is allso a journey into the love life of renaissance man.

A love life surprisingly semilar to ours.

“ - and Love is Love in Beggars and in Kings”

TUTTO NERO

Di notte il cielo senza stelle è tutto nero.

Così il mio cuore fino all'ultimo pensiero.

Non ha più colore la mia vita senza di te.

C'è un'eterna notte disperata dentro di me.

Son nere le pareti bianche della stanza,

Dov'è la luce che fa bella l'esistenza.

Chi mi viene incontro per le strade guarda e non sa

Che per il mio sguardo anche il sole nero sarà

E come un bimbo appena nato cerca il mondo,

Io cerco il bene che ho perduto e sto piangendo.

Affrontar la vita, se mi manchi, come farò

Se la bianca aurora del mattino nera vedrò

L'inchiostro nero è diventato verde mare

Da quando so che non potrai piu' ritornare.

Ogni giorno l'ora del tramonto sempre sarà

Il mio mondo è nero com'è nera l'oscurità

Di notte il cielo senza stelle è tutto nero.

Così il mio cuore fino all'ultimo pensiero.

Non ha più colore la mia vita senza di te.

C'è un'eterna notte disperata dentro di me.

E come un bimbo appena nato cerca il mondo,

Io cerco il bene che ho perduto e sto piangendo.

HELT SORT

Om natten er den stjernefri himmel helt sort.

Det samme er mit hjerte til den sidste tanke.

Der er ikke mere farve i mit liv uden dig.

Der er en evig desperat nat i mit indre.

Sort er de hvide vægge i rummet,

Hvor er det lys, der gør tilværelsen smuk?

De, der møder mig på gaden, ser og ved ikke

at for mit blik vil selv solen være sort

Og som et nyfødt barn søger verden,

søger jeg det gode, som jeg har mistet, og jeg græder.

Stillet over for livet, når jeg savner dig, hvad vil jeg gøre

hvis det hvide morgengry sort jeg skal se

Det sorte blæk er blevet havgrønt

Da jeg ved, at du aldrig vil vende tilbage.

Hver dag vil solnedgangens time altid være

Min verden er sort som mørket er sort

Om natten er den stjerneløse himmel helt sort.

Det er mit hjerte også til den sidste tanke.

Mit liv har ikke mere farve uden dig.

Der er en evig desperat nat inden i mig.

Og som et nyfødt barn søger verden,

søger jeg det gode, som jeg har mistet, og jeg græder.

Away With These Self-loving Lads

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