Orlando di Lasso, poem by Pierre Ronsard, trans. Miriam Chase
Di Lasso wrote madrigals in so many different European languages that he sometimes goes by the Latin form of his name, Lassus.
Good day, dear heart!
Good day, my charming maiden!
Good day, my own!
Good day, my flower, love laden!
Ah, good day, my gentle sweetheart,
My nymph enchanting, good day,
Mine eyes delight, my dear love.
My tender bud, my fresh and gentle spring flower,
My singing bird, my turtle dove in rose bower,
My winsome maid, my heart's delight and longing.
Good day, my sweet, my tyrant love.
Thomas Weelkes
A feminist madrigal, if you will.
Hark, all ye lovely saints above,
Diana hath agreed with love
His fiery weapon to remove -- fa la la . . .
Do ye not see how they agree?
Then cease, fair ladies -- why weep ye? Fa la la . . .
See, see, your mistress bids you cease
And welcome love with love's increase;
Diana hath procured your peace, fa la la . . .
Cupid hath sworn his bow forlorn to break and burn
'ere ladies mourn! Fa la la . . . .
Thomas Morley
Sing we and chant it while love doth grant it, fa la la . . .
Not long youth lasteth and sorrow hasteth;
Now is best leisure to take our pleasure, fa la la . . .
All things invite us now to delight us, fa la la . . .
Hence care be packing! No mirth be lacking;
Let spare no treasure to live in pleasure, fa la la . . . .
John Bennet
This one was for Elizabeth herself; "Orianna" refers to her.
All creatures now are merry minded.
The shepherd's daughters playing,
The nymphs are fa-la-la-ing,
Yon bugle was well winded.
At Orianna's presence each thing smileth.
The flowers themselves discover,
Birds over her do hover,
Music the time beguileth.
See where she comes, with flowery garlands crowned,
Queen of all queens reknowned!
Then sang the shepherds and nymphs of Diana:
"Long live fair Orianna!"
Francois Regnard, poem by Pierre Ronsard, trans. Miriam Chase
Gay little nymph, little nymph, light and carefree,
Oh nymph, little nymph, know the love I bear thee,
My beloved, in whose eyes, glad or sad, all my fate lies.
Aphrodite, sweet, I name thee,
Dear love gift, mine now I claim thee!
Thou couldst not my love allay
With a thousand, a thousand fond kisses every day!
Francis Pilkington
Rest, sweet nymphs,
Let golden sleep charm your star brighter eyes,
While my lute the watch doth keep with pleasing sympathies.
Lulla lulla bye, sleep sweetly, let nothing affright ye,
In calm contentment lie.
Dream, fair virgins, of delight, and blest Elysian groves,
While the wand'ring shades of night resemble your true loves.
Lulla lulla bye, your kisses, your blisses, send them by your wishes,
Although they be not nigh.
Orlando di Lasso, translated by Miriam Chase
Oh eyes of my beloved,
Oh eyes of my dear love,
'neath arched brows glancing,
Oh face like moonbeams glowing in fair beauty.
If in thy memory, my radiant jewel,
One little thought you'll hold for me,
'twill make me content.
Thomas Morley
Fyer! Fyer! My heart! Fa la la . . .
Oh help! Oh help! Alas, oh help! Ay me, I sit and cry me,
And call for help, but none comes nigh me! Fa la la . . . .
John Wilbye
Flora gave me fairest flowers,
None so fair in Flora's treasure,
These I placed in Phyllis' bowers,
She was pleased and she my pleasure.
Smiling meadows seem to say,
"Come ye wantons here to play!"
Thomas Morley
April is in my mistress' face,
And July in her eyes hath place,
Within her bosom is September,
But in her heart -- a cold December!
[Ich waiss mir ein Meidlein hübsch und fein]
Orlando di Lasso, translated by Arthur Watson
Di Lasso composed this madrigal on an anonymous German poem.
I know a young maiden wondrous fair.
Oh, take care and trust her not:
She fooleth fooleth fooleth thee
[Sie narr narr narr narr narret dich]
Thomas Weelkes
Four arms, two necks, one wreathing,
Two pair of lips, one breathing, fa la la . . .
Two hearts that multiply sighs interchangeably, fa la la . . . .
Orlando Gibbons
One of the earliest "swan songs."
The silver swan who, living, had no note,
When death appeared, unlocked her silent throat,
Leaning against the reedy shore,
Thus sang her first and last, and sang no more:
"Farewell, all joys! Oh, death, come close mine eyes;
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise!"
John Farmer
Fair Phyllis I saw sitting all alone,
Feeding her flock near to the mountainside.
The shepherds knew not whither she was gone,
But after her [her] lover Amyntas hied,
Up and down he wandered, while she was missing;
When he found her, ah then, they fell a kissing!
Orlando di Lasso
For discretion's sake we perform this rather impolite serenade in its original Italian, because it's really filthy. Below is a familair "cleaned-up" translation that uses imagery for the rude meanings. Vivace is still looking for a good literal translation, but it is certain that the singer advertises his great size, and promises to go at it all night, "thrusting like a ram."
Matona, lovely maiden, oh listen to the song,
I sing beneath thy window while night clouds roll along,
Don don don diri diri don don don don don.
I pray you, hear my ditty, tis sweet and not too long,
'tis pointed if not witty, and sharpened like a prong, don don don . . .
The words of choicest tissue, to shoot, love's aim belong,
Then from your window issue, or else you do me wrong, don don don . . .
You'll say if once you catch them and note their fine ding dong
Petrarcha [the poet] could not match them,
They are so sweet and strong, don don don . . .
But if you think the measure should to all scorn belong,
A more complying treasure I'll choose from out the throng, don . . . .
Pierre Passereau
We perform this in its original French, since it makes such musical use of the sound of the language. Also, listeners might be interested to know that French madrigal composers were noted for introducing birdsong into the musical line.
He is handsome and good, my husband is!
There were these two neighbor women in the country,
One says to the other, "Do you have a good husband?"
"He's handsome and good . . .
He doesn't make me cross, never beats me either,
He feeds the animals, he feeds the chickens,
And I take my pleasure!
Girlfriend! It's enough to make you laugh
When the chickens cackle: 'Petite coquette, co co dac, what's this?'
He is handsome . . . ."
Thomas Morley
This Morley classic finds its way into Shakespeare's "As You Like It." Gary goes it alone here, as we couldn't find our music at the recording session.
It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey and a ho and a hey nonny nonny no,
That o'er the green cornfields did pass
In Springtime, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, "hey ding a ding a ding . . ."
Sweet lovers love the Spring.
Between the acres of the rye, with a hey . . .
These pretty country folk would lie, in Springtime . . . .
Luca Marenzio, and we don't know about the poet or translator
Each section sets a different scene, as the weather goes through its changes on a spring day.
Spring returns, with balmy zephyrs softly breathed.
April the young and gay, with flowers wreathed,
The waves are stilled,
The clouds in showers descending,
While nymphs and jocund shepherds songs are blending.
Now feathered songsters among the groves are flying.
With evening's shades silence is falling.
Morning returns, the song of joy recalling.
Howard Treibitz, poem by Herman Hupfeld [from Casablanca]
Our composer friend, from Castle Rock, wrote this for us as we were beginning to work together. Come to think of it, this lyric is the perfect madrigal text -- just add fa la la-s -- and we love what Howard's done with it! You will too!
You must remember this,
A kiss is still a kiss,
A sigh is just a sigh,
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by, fa la la . . .
Moonlight and love songs,
Never out of date,
Hearts full of passion,
Jealousy and hate.
Woman needs man, and man must have his mate,
That no one can deny.
And when two lovers woo,
They still say "I love you,"
On that you can rely,
No matter what the future brings,
As time goes by, fa la la . . .
Moonlight . . .
It's still the same old story,
A fight for love and glory,
A case of do or die,
No matter what the future brings
As time goes by.
Fa la la . . . .
John Wilbye
Sort of a Renaissance version of "One More Time Around, Rosie!"
Adieu, sweet Amaryllis,
Since to part your will is,
Oh heaving tiding!
Here is for me no biding!
Yet once again, 'ere that I part with you.
[Mon coeur se recommande a vous]
Orlando di Lasso
My heart doth beg you'll not forget,
My heavy heart, with sorrow aching,
And spite of jealous eyes e'en yet,
One last farewell we might be taking.
Once smiles my lips were ever curving,
And gracious words were all they knew;
Now alone for cursing they're serving
Those who banish me, love, from you.
My heart doth beg . . . .
[adapted from "Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen"]
Heinrich Isaac
Dear friends, we now must leave ye;
We go our way, though grievéd be;
A strange land soon we'll greet.
We pray that come the morrow
Our joy wil grow from sorrow,
When we again shall meet.