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The day's grown old; the fainting sun Has but a little way to run, And yet his steeds, with all his skill, Scarce lug the chariot down the hill. The shadows now so long do grow, That brambles like tall cedars show; Mole hills seem mountains, and the ant Appears a monstrous elephant. A very little, little flock Shades thrice the ground that it would stock; Whilst the small stripling following them Appears a mighty Polypheme. And now on benches all are sat, In the cool air to sit and chat, Till Phoebus, dipping in the West, Shall lead the world the way to rest.
Text Authorship:
- by Charles Cotton (1630 - 1687) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976), "Pastoral", op. 31 no. 1 (1943), published 1944, first performed 1943 [ tenor, horn, and strings or piano ], from Serenade for tenor, horn and strings, no. 1, London : Boosey & Hawkes [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "Pastoral", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Jean-Pierre Granger) , "Pastorale", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Pastorale", copyright © 2025, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- NYN Norwegian (Nynorsk) (Are Frode Søholt) , "Hyrdedikt", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Pablo Sabat) , "Pastoral"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 105
Il giorno è invecchiato; il sole al tramonto è prossimo a concludere il suo percorso, eppure i suoi destrieri, con tutta la loro potenza, faticano a trascinare il carro giù per la discesa. Le ombre adesso si allungano talmente che simili a cedri giganteschi sembrano i rovi e le piante; Le colline di terra diventano montagne e la formica pare un mostruoso elefante. Un gregge da poche pecore formato fa ombra tre volte più larga sul terreno occupato; mentre il piccolo pastore che lo fa pascolare Come un potente Polifemo a tutti appare. E’ l’ora in cui si sta seduti in compagnia a godersi il fresco e chiaccherare in allegria, Fino a che Febo, a occidente disceso, condurrà il mondo sulla via del riposo.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to Italian (Italiano) copyright © 2025 by Ferdinando Albeggiani, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on:
- a text in English by Charles Cotton (1630 - 1687)
This text was added to the website: 2025-07-17
Line count: 16
Word count: 124