12a Renaissance Music Texts
Hermannus Contractus (1O13-1O54), Salve Regina
Salve Regina, mater misericordiae, vita dulcedo et spes nostra salve. Ad te clamamus exsules filii Evae, ad te suspiramus gementes et flentes in hac lacrimarum valle. Eia ergo advocata nostra illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte. Et Jesum benedictum fructum ventris tui nobis post hoc exsilium ostende. O clemens, O pia, O dulcis virgo Maria. |
Hail, O Queen, mother of mercy, our life, sweetness and hope, hail. To thee do we cry, daughter of Eve, To thee we sigh, mourning and weeping in this vale of tears. O you our advocate, turn on us thy merciful eyes. And after this our exile show to us Jesus, the blessed fruit of thy womb, O merciful, O loving, O sweet virgin Mary. |
Vergine Bella: two settings
- Guillaume Dufay (c.14OO-1474); Text: Francesco Petrarca,Vergene bella
- Bartolomeo Tromboncino (c1470-c1535)
Vergene bella, che di sol vestita, Coronata di stelle, al somme Sole Piacesti si che’n te sua luce ascose, Amor mi spinge a dir di te parole, Ma non so ‘ncominciar senza tu’aiuta E di Colui ch’amando in te si pose. Invoco lei che ben sempre rispose, Chi la chiamo con fede. Vergene, s’a mercede Miseria estrema de l’umane cose Giamai ti volse, al mio prego t’inchina; Soccorri a la mia guerra, Ben ch’io sia terra, e tu del ciel regina. |
Beautiful Virgin, clothed in sunlight, crowned with stars, so pleasing to the highest Sun that his light is hidden in you; Love urges me to speak of you, but I cannot begin without your help and his whose love rested in you. I appeal to her who always responds to those who call with faith. Virgin, if the misery of human affairs has ever stirred your compassion. consider my prayer: assist my struggle, even though I am earth and you the Queen of Heaven. |
Heinrich Isaac (c.145O-1517) Tota pulcra es (text: Song of Songs)
Tota pulcra es amica mea et macula non est in te; favus distillans labia tua; mel et lac sub lingua tua; odor unguentorum tuorum super omnia aromata. Iam enim hiems transiit, imber abiit et recessit. Flores apparuerunt vineae florentes odorem dederunt, et vox turturis audita est in terra nostra. Surge propera amica mea. Veni de Libano, veni coronaberis. |
You are beauty itself my beloved and have no fault; honeycomb forms on your lips; milk and honey lie under your tongue and the fragrance of your perfumes surpasses all scents. Already now the winter is past, the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear in the fields, the blossoming vine gives forth its scent and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. Arise and make haste, my love. Come from Lebanon, come and be crowned. |
Non e tempo d’aspectare (Marchetto Cara)
(in the style of Pietrohono del Chitarino)
Pietrobono was a native of Ferrara and retained a base there, though an illustrious career took him all over Italy and even as far as the Hungarian court. He was an improviser and left no written compositions, though he was widely praised as a lutenist and as a singer of narrative verse, ‘singing, in well-ordered verses, to the cythara, the love tales of modern people who are praised’. He performed in conjunction with a tenorista, who held a simple line for the lute and voice to improvise around. His fame and reputation throughout Italy were so great that he died a very rich man and even had a coin struck in his honour.
Non e tempo d’aspectare Quando se ha bonaza o vento, Che se vede in lin momento Ogni cosa variare. Non e tempo … Se tu sali fa pur presto. Lassa dire chi dir vole. Questo e note e manifesto Che non duran le viole E la neve al caldo Sole Sole in aqua ritomarc. Non e tempo … Quando se ha firmato el piede Et in tutto intorno visto Muta pur fortuna sede Che non val contra al provisto Che gli e ben da pocho e Eristo Chi no sa col tempo andare. None tempo … Non aspecti a volti questa vota stabilita. Molti sono stati accolti ncl condur della lor vita. Non e tempo … |
It’s not the time to wait Whether it’s calm or windy, For you see in a moment Everything changing. It’s not the time … If you are going to act, do it quickly. Let speak, who wants to speak. It is clear and evident That violets don’t last And the snow in the hot sun Returns to water. It’s not the time … When you have stopped moving your feet And looked around thoroughly Silent fortune still sits That doesn’t go against what is meant to he That to him is good from want and sadness That doesn’t know what time to go. It’s not the time … Don’t expect from faces this longed for stability. Many caught in sleep have not led out their lives It’s not the time … |
O mia cieca e dura sorte (Marchetto Cara)
version 1
version 2
O mia cieca e dura sorte Di dolor sempre nutrita O miseria di mia vita, Tristo anuntio ala mia morte. Piu dolente e piu infelice, Son che alcun che viva in terra. Larbor son che’l vento atterra. Per che piu non ha felice, Ver e ben quel che se dice Che mal va chi ha inala sorte. O mia cieca… La cagion de tanto male E fortuna e il crude amore Perche sempre de hon core Servatho fede immortale La qual hor tiacato ha lale. E bandita da ogni corte. O mia cieca… Per che a un viver duro e grave Grave e dur, morir conviene. Finir voglio in pianeti e in pene. Come un scoglio fa la nave, Chal fin rompe ogni sue trave. Pcliche un tempo e stata forte. O mia cieca… Piglia exempio ognium che vede Scripto in la mia tomha obscura. Se ben fuor son de natura Morto son per troppo fede. Per mi mai non fu mercede Pieta chiuse a me le porte. O mia cieca… |
O my blind and harsh fatc Nourished always by sorrow. O misery of my life, Sad announcement of my death. More sorrowful and more unhappy, 1 am than anyone that lives on earth. I am a tree that the wind uproots. For he who has no more happiness, What they say is true Things go badly for the ill-fated. O my blind… The reason for so many troubles Is fortune and cruel love. Because always of good heart I have served her with immortal faith Who now has so broken me down And banned me from all company. O my blind… For whoever has a harsh and grave life, Is fitted to a grave and harsh death, I want to end my days in sighs and anguish As a rock causes a ship to finally break all its beams. Which once were strong. O my blind… All who see should take example, From the writing on my dark tomb. Although it is unnatural I have died through too much faith. For me there never was any mercy. Pity closes its doors to me. O my blind… |
Dunque piangiamo (Angelo Poliziano)
The lira da braccio was thought to be the descendant of the lyre of Orpheus and was thus highly esteemed in Italian humanistic circles, though unknown elsewhere. The art historian Vasari emphasizes Leonardos da Vinci’s preference for it as that of a man ‘who by nature had a high-flowing spirit, full of gracefulness, and who sang divinely as an improviser, over its accompaniment’. Ludovico Sforza, the Duke of Milan, liked and played the instrument and Leonardo built one in the shape of a horse’s skull during his stay in Milan from 1482 to 1499. It was apparently used solely to accompany singing.
Dunque piangiamo o sconsolata lira, Che piu non si convien l’usaro canto. Piangiam mentre ch’el ciel ne poli aggira, E Filomena cieda al nostro pianto. O cielo, o terra, o mare, o sorte dura, Como potro soffrire mai dolor tanto? Euridice, mia bella, o vita mia, Senza te non convien, che in vita stia. |
Therefore I weep, O mournful lyre. No longer is my habitual singing fit. We weep whilst the heavens turn around the poles, And Filomena yields to our complaints. O heavens, O earth, O sea, O harsh fate, How can I suffer such sorrow? Eurydice, my love, O my life, Without you life is worthless. |