Translations of Baroque Song

From a Programme at Wigmore Hall

Monday, 13 March 2023

Dear Sirs,

Attending your lunchtime concert last week, Monday 13 March, I was inspired by the words and music to undertake my own English translations of the songs in the programme; lyrics by various poets set to music by Scarlatti, Mancini and Handel.

While I enjoyed Ms. Lucinda Byatt’s translations, I did not find that they read particularly well in English, though they served during the concert as a touchstone for one to follow during the singing. But I don’t find this to be the best way to listen to song. I think it much more important that one appreciates the emotion of the poem and then sets aside the words in favour of the music, wherein they will rediscover the emotion. That is the core to my approach in these translations, though I have not omitted the music of lyric, nor other shades of language.

I attach my own translations to all the lyrics in that programme.

When I was 25 and younger, and living in Camden, I would regularly walk down to the Hall and enjoy free concerts. A few years on and I can no longer enjoy these incredible concessions you make to young artists, but I believe in that time I have gained something that I can offer in return. It is my hope that, if you find these translations beneficial, we might be able to collaborate on the translation of a wider anthology for use at Wigmore Hall.

Thank you for your time and consideration, and for many years of wonderful music.

Kind regards,
Louis de Beaumont

Alessandro Scarlatti (1660–1725)

“Clori mia — Dorino caro”

from Clori, Dorino e Amore

Anonymous

Clori mia,
    — Dorino caro,
Se per te mi struggo e moro,
    — Se t’adoro,
Dal mio cor
    — Dall’alma mia
Che più vuoi?
    — Che più pretendi?
Chiedo solo
    — Io solo voglio
Che tu sii sempre costante.
Io son fido.
    — Io sempre amante.

Clori, my love,
    — My dear Dorino,
If for you I lash and die,
    — If I adore you,
From my heart
    — From the soul that is mine
What more can you want?
    — What more will you ask of me?
I ask only this
    — Only can I wish
That you will always stay you.
I am faithful.
    — I’m ever-loving.

Per trofeo di grandi imprese

To boast of the greatness of life

Lieto un giorno il cieco dio

Larking one day the graceless god

Ci rapì dal seno i cori

Stole our hearts from our chests

E in trionfo li portò.

And in his triumph toured them.

Ma poi quando al sen li rese

But when he came to the light

Non distinse il tuo dal mio

He couldn’t tell yours from mine

Ch'era simili gl'ardori

For each seemed so obsessed

E nei petti li cambiò.

And in our chests he changed them.

Onde adesso io t’adoro
— Se d’amarmi hai sol desio,
Io t’amo col tuo cuore e tu col mio.

Wherefore I adore you
— All I want’s to love you
I love you with your heart
and my heart loves as you do.

Alessandro Scarlatti

“Per un Momento Solo”

from Per un Momento Solo

Anonymous

Per un momento solo
Lasciate affanni miei di tormentarmi,
E poi ritorni il duolo
Armato di sciagure
a lacerarmi.

For just one moment, troubles,
Set me free to roam. Trust
Sorrow will return
Bearing the scrolls of damnation,
to make a dust of me.

Non v’è né fu già mai

There never was nor will be

Vivente core mio più sfortunato,

A living heart less lucky; just

Scherzo di ria fortuna,

The jest of devilish fortune,

Gioco d’avverso fato;

The game of a sorry fate.

Di quanto irato ciel qua giù disserra

Black heavens cast down

Catastrofe di pene, e crudi affanni,

Catastrophies of pain, like cudgels,

Ricetto, e miserabile ed eterno,

Upon this endless hovel

E chiude in sé di Titio, d’Issione,

Whose inmates are the pains of Titian

Di Tantalo, d’Averno,

And Ixona, Tantalo and Avernus; thus

Le pene tutte, anzi un più crudo inferno.

My hell’s cruder.

Mio core, affanni e pene
Intenti a danni tuoi havrai per sempre.
Hanno Le tue catene
Che frangere non puoi,
eterne tempre.

My heart! these troubles, these
Torments mean harm on you forever.
They have your chains
Whose chains can’t break; an ever-
welded harmony.

George Frideric Handel

“Che Vai Pensando”

HWV 184

Anonymous

Che vai pensando, folle
Pensier per lusingarmi?
Se pensi farmi
Penar sperando,
Non pensi il ver, nò, non
pensi il ver.

What are you thinking, foolish
Thoughts to gain me?
If you think you’ll make me
Hope until it’s hurting
I don’t think you know what’s real. No,
I don’t think you know me.

Francesco Mancini

“Dal Fatale Momento”

HWV 101b

attributed to George Frideric Handel

Anonymous

Dal fatale momento
Che ti mirai, mio bene,
E per la via dei lumi entrò
Cupido
A incatenarmi il core,
Oh, come a tutte l’hore,
Bacio le mie catene,
E benedico i Numi
Che mi volsero amante
Del tuo crin, del tuo sen,
del tuo sembiante.

Chi non ama il tuo sembiante,
Chi per te non vive in pene,
Non ha senso, e non ha core.
Solo so che sono amante,
Solo provo, amato bene,
So che peno a tutte l’hore.

Ma per viver contento,
Fra miei cari d’amor dolci legami,
Tanto sono io geloso,
Che non basti che m’ami.

From that fatal moment
I saw you, my lady,
And down the road of light came
Cupid
Casting his spells inside me,
How at morning and night, O —
I kiss my iron chains
And bless the Gods!
For they made of me a lover
Of the pin that ties your hair,
and your towering motherhood.

Who doesn’t love the sight of you
Who does not bear his life in pain for you
He is numb; a heartless fool.
Only I know what it means to be your lover
Only I know, and all will know it by me —
My love, as I sing to survive each hour.

How can I live happily
When love tethers me to the post?
So jealous am I
That if you sent for me, I would not go.

Vorrei, non v’adirate,

Lay me (Forgive me,

Care pupille amate,

Green eyes that I love)

Vorrei per mio riposo,

Lay me like this:

Esser sol’io bersaglio a’vostri sguardi,

The sole gaze in your sight.

Ch’al par d’acuti dardi,

And if your eyes pierce my heart,

Se ben pungono il core,

Sharp darts that they are,

Almen senza timore,

At least I could say, on my last

Dir potrei per mia pace:

breath so calmly, my sole consolation:

Quest’alma che sospira

This soul that sighs, “Philli

Filli che m’ha ferito, altri non

Philli, who has hurt me, she hurts only

cura.

me.”

O ti vorrei men bella,
O men geloso il cor.
Allor godrei che quella
Tu fossi, anima mia,
Che senza gelosia
Mi consolasse ogn’or.

So either you grow ugly
Or I get over my jealousy.
Then whatever your fate,
my soul,
Without envy at your core
We’d be free for evermore.

George Frideric Handel

“Tacete, ohimè, tacete”

HWV 196

Francesco de Lemene

Tacete, ohimè, tacete!
Entro fiorita cuna
Dorme Amor nol vedete?
Non sia voce importuna
Che li turba il riposo, ov’or giace.
Sol quando dorme Amore, il
monde è in pace.

Stop it, would you Stop!
In her flowery cot
Love sleeps, can’t you see?
Don’t you disturb her with your per-
-sisting, now she’s made her bed.
Only when Love sleeps
the world is at peace.