Music at Noon Concert Texts and Translations, Nov. 11, 2021

Oct. 20, 2021

Texts and translations: 

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, poetry by Robert Herrick 
To the Virgins, to make much of Time 

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,  
Old Time is still a-flying:  
And this same flower that smiles to-day  
To-morrow will be dying.  
 
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,  
The higher he’s a-getting,  
The sooner will his race be run,  
And nearer he’s to setting. 
 
That age is best which is the first,  
When youth and blood are warmer;  
But being spent, the worse, and worst  
Times still succeed the former.  
 
Then be not coy, but use your time,  
And while ye may, go marry:  
For having lost but once your prime, 15 
You may for ever tarry. 

 
Odi Euterpe (in Greek mythology, Euterpe was one of the Muses: the muse of music). 

Listen, Euterpe, to the sweet song, for Cupid requested it of me, 

And join the sweet song to the golden sound of my lyre, 

For all too sweet Cupid coaxes me to tell that what he said to me.  

My Lydia covered her bosom with nocturnal and chaste veil; 

But the moon high in the heavens gently revealed it to me 

For the sight of such lovely treasure the moon flared up with flames of gold.  

And I softly and innocently saw how the breast revealed its purity, 

And in sweet care I felt my heart languish in my breast; 

And my heart rose quickly and lightly into the snow-white purity.  

I gazed, and you wounded me, my Lydia, sweetly; 

The ardent glance in your breast I spurred on, and you robbed me of it; 

I caused a few sparks, you thousands of flames. 

But the heart burned so sweetly that every flame and every arrow  

in this dear bosom full of love refreshed it any time, 

and the wounded heart was a sweet invitation to farther wounds.  

Magdalena degna da laudare (originally, 54 verses) 

Magdalena degna da laudare,                          Magdalena, worthy of praise 

sempre degge Dio per noi pregare!                 deign plead with the Lord for us always.  

Ben è degna d'essare laudata                           Worthy of praise indeed,  

ké foe peccatrice nominata:                             is she who was once called a sinner;  

per servire fo ben meritata,                              her merits made her worthy  

Iesù Cristo volse sequitare.                               of serving the Lord. 

Magdalena degna da laudare,                          Magdalena, worthy of praise 

sempre degge Dio per noi pregare!                 always pray for us before God. 

Lo suo peccato pianse cum dolore                  She wept bitterly over her sins 

e del mondo volse uscire d'errore,                  and wanted to give up the erring ways of the world; 

et a Cristo cum verace amore                          Out of true love of Christ 

in sue mani si volve commendare.                  she put herself in His hands. 

Magdalena degna da laudare,                         Magdalena, worthy of praise 

sempre degge Dio per noi pregare!               always pray for us before God. 

A li piei de Cristo s'imchinòe                            She threw herself at Christ's feet 

et molto dolcemente li bascione;                   and kissed them most sweetly, 

di lagrime tutti li bagnòe,                                and wet them with her tears 

colli capelli presele a 'schiugare.                    and wiped them with her hair. 

O Virgo Splendens  
(Antiphon in sweet harmony for the Virgin Mary from Montserrat. Canon in two voices)  
 
O resplendent Virgin, here on the high mountain, glowing with miraculous wonders where the believers from everywhere ascend.  
 
Ah, with your gentle loving eye behold those caught in the bonds of sin, to let them not suffer the blows of Hell, but let them be with the blessed by your intercession. 

Santa Maria strela de dia 

Holy Mary, Star of Day 

Show us the way to God 

And be our guide. 

We were lost, without a home to live in, 

By our guilt and worthlessness were driven 

Too much shame and wondering what if sin ruined us 

But now we are forgiven. 

For God will bury  

the sins we carry 

Piece He will share; 

He will make our spirits carefree. 

Holy Mary, Star of Day 

Show us the way to God 

And be our guide. 

Show us how to walk in the dark night 

And in all we do with Your far sight 

How to win the true and matchless starlight, 

Light from You, for only You are so bright. 

I am contrary, 

But at Your query 

God surly spares me 

His grace extraordinary.  

Your wisdom can guide us far better 

than any other thing to Paradise, 

where God has always delight and joy  

for whoever would believer in Him. 

I should rejoice 

if it please you 

be in such company. 

Trans. Kathleen Kulp-Hill 

Ciaccona of Heaven and Hell  

Oh how nice it is to be in Paradise 
Where we live in the Elysian fields 
Seeing the face of God revealed, 
Oh how nice it is to be in Paradise. 
 
Oh how horrible it is here in hell 
Where we burn in eternal fire 
Without ever seeing God appear, 
Oh how horrible it is here in hell. 

Here we don't suffer ice, wind and heat 
The weather is temperate all the time 
There’s no rain or storms or lightning, 
Here in Heaven it’s always peaceful. 

There’s fire and ice here, oh it’s awful, 
The frosts, the storms, and the scorching heat 
We’re in a place of such terrible weather 
Oh we’re gathered here in such misery. 
 
We have here all we could ever wish for 
And we have nothing that we dislike, 
There’s so much more, O Muse, I could say 
But I’ll pause the song, not daring to say more. 
 
Ah we have everything that is abhorrent 
Nothing we like, never any pleasure, 
We’re surrounded by evil and badness 
Desperate to escape but never, never, never! 

LLumi, potete piangere 

    Lumi, potete piangere                                                Eyes, you can cry 

    non riderete più.                                                          You will never laugh again, 

    Il cor, che lieto fu                                                         This heart that once was merry 

    nel duol si sente a frangere.                                      Is breaking now with grief 

    Lumi, potete piangere.                                               Eyes, you can cry. 

    The Flowers of the Forest, lyrics John Elliot 

    Scottish tune lamenting the death of over 10 000 men at the battle of Flodden filed in 1513 

    I've heard the lilting, at the yowe-milking, 

    Lasses a-lilting before dawn o' day; 

    But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning; 

   "The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away". 

    As buchts, in the morning, nae blythe lads are scorning; 

    The lasses are lonely and dowie and wae. 

    Nae daffin', nae gabbin', but sighing and sobbing, 

    Ilk ane lifts her leglen, and hies her away. 

    Dule and wae for the order sent our lads to the Border; 

    The English, for ance, by guile wan the day: 

    The Flowers of the Forest, that foucht aye the foremost, 

    The prime o' our land are cauld in the clay. 

    We'll hae nae mair lilting, at the yowe-milking,  

    Women and bairns are dowie and wae. 

    Sighing and moaning, on ilka green loaning, 

    The Flowers of the forest are all wede away. 

     Venite, venite