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The LiederNet Archive

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Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing...

Language: English

Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves;
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime
Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,--
Weak masters though ye be,--I have bedimm'd
The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,
And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault
Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
With his own bolt: the strong-bas'd promontory
Have I made shake; and by the spurs pluck'd up
The pine and cedar: graves at my command
Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and let them forth
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
I here abjure; and, when I have requir'd
Some heavenly music,--which even now I do,--
To work mine end upon their senses that
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound
I'll drown my book.

Translation(s): FRE ITA

List of language codes

About the headline (FAQ)

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

Text added to the website: 2008-12-10 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:03:01

Line count: 25
Word count: 200

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     - Emily Ezust

Voi, de’ colli, de’ laghi e delle selve

Language: Italian (Italiano) after the English

Voi, de’ colli, de’ laghi e delle selve,
Silfidi abitatrici, e voi, voi pure
Che vi godete d’inseguir sul lido,
Col piè che nell’arena orma non lassa,
Il fuggente Nettuno, e se ritorna
Gli date, in corsa paurosa, il dorso,
E voi che descrivete a’ rai di luna,
Spiritelli minuti, i cerchi amari
Onde il prato s’imbeve, ed a quell’erba
Nè pecora, nè zeba il dente accosta;
E voi che per trastullo uscir di notte
Fate il fungo di terra, ed esultate
Quando suona la squilla il coprifoco,
Voi che fiacchi bensì, ma pur soccorso
Bastevole mi foste; e per la vostra
Poca virtù velai la faccia al sole
Nel pien meriggio, scatenai la rabbia
De’ venti, e tra la verde onda del mare
E il glauco aere del ciel, della battaglia
L’ululo suscitai, le fiamme accesi
Al terribile tuon che col potente
Scoppio la quercia dell’Egioco atterra,
Feci i monti tremar su’ lor profondi
Fondamenti, l’abete, il faggio, il cedro
Svelsi dalle radici; e fin le tombe
Spalancai con un cenno, ed i dormenti,
Svegli dall’arte mia, balzàr di novo
Alla luce del dì; voi tutti udite!
Giuro di qui lasciar questi infernali
Prestigi; e poi che desta una divina
Musica avrete che ridoni il senno
A questi sciagurati, e sia raggiunto
Quel fin che cogl’incanti io mi proposi,
Giuro spezzar la verga mia, nel suolo
Più cubiti affondarla, e il mio volume
Sommergere ne’ flutti ove non giunse
Scandaglio mai.

About the headline (FAQ)

Submitted by Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]


Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

    [ None yet in the database ]

Text added to the website: 2019-05-09 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2019-05-09 02:31:07

Line count: 37
Word count: 242