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Amo l' ora del giorno che muore Quando il sole già stanco declina, E nell'onde di queta marina Veggo il raggio supremo languir. In quell' ora mi torna nel core Un' età più felice di questa, In quell' ora dolcissima e mesta Volgo a te, cara donna, il sospir. L' occhio immoto ed immoto il pensiero, Io contemplo la striscia lucente Che mi vien dal sereno occidente La quïete solcando del mar. E desio di quell' aureo sentiero Ravviarmi sull' orma infinita Quasi debba la stanca mia vita Ad un porto di pace guidar.
I love the hour of day’s dying, when the tired sun descends, and in the still waters of the marina I see the last rays languishing. In that hour, there returns to my heart a happier age than this one; in that sweet and sad hour, I turn my sighs, dear woman, to you! With sight and thought immobile I gaze on the streaks of light That come from the serene East Plowing over the placid sea. And I wish to set forth upon The infinite steps of that golden path As though it might guide my [sad]1 life To a harbor of peace.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Italian (Italiano) to English copyright © 2025 by Will Crutchfield, (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 Italian (Italiano) by Andrea Maffei (1798 - 1885), no title
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Verdi: "weary"
This text was added to the website: 2025-05-01
Line count: 16
Word count: 105
Chi padre mi fosse, qual patria mi sia, Invano la gente chiamando mi va; Del primo mai seppi ed è patria mia La terra che un fiore, che un frutto mi dà. Dovunque il destino m'addita un sentiero, Io trovo un sorriso, io trovo un amor; Perchè del passato darommi pensiero, Se l'ora presente è lieta al mio cor? Può, è vero, il domani un torbido velo Dell'aure serene l'aspetto turbar; Ma s'oggi risplende azzurro il mio cielo, Perchè rattristarmi d'un dubbio avvenir? Io sono una pianta che ghiaccio non spoglia, Che tutto disfida del verno il rigor; Se fronda qui cade, là un'altra germoglia, In ogni stagione son carca di fior.
Who was my father, what is my country? In vain people go on calling to me; What of the first thing I knew, and of my homeland? It’s any land that gives me flowers and fruits. Wherever fate leads me, I find a smile, I find a lover; Why worry about the past When my heart is happy now? It may come to pass that tomorrow a dark veil Will obscure my serene appearance; But if today my sky is a resplendent blue, Why be sad from doubts that may not come to pass? I am a plant that isn’t damaged by frost, That defies all of winter's severity; If one leafy branch falls here, another germinates there, In every season I am laden with flowers.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Italian (Italiano) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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 Italian (Italiano) by S. Manfredo Maggioni
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This text was added to the website: 2016-04-10
Line count: 16
Word count: 126
Bell'astro della terra, Luce amorosa e bella, Come desia quest'anima Oppressa e prigioniera Le sue catene infrangere, Libera a te volar! Gl'ignoti abitatori Che mi nascondi, o stella, Cogl'angeli s'abbracciano Puri fraterni amori, Fan d'armonie cogl'angeli La spera tua sonar. Le colpe e i nostri affanni Vi sono a lor segreti, Inavvertiti e placidi Scorrono i giorni e gli anni, Nè mai pensier li novera, Nè li richiama in duol. Bell'astro della sera, Gemma che il cielo allieti, Come alzerà quest'anima Oppressa e prigioniera Dal suo terreno carcere Al tuo bel raggio il vol!
Text Authorship:
- by Andrea Maffei (1798 - 1885)
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Note for stanza 2, line 6, word 2: Some publications and online sources have modernized the word "spera" to "sfera". As of June 13 2015, we found 3 out of 4 published books indexed by Google used the spelling "spera".
Beautiful star of the earth, loving and beautiful light, This oppressed and imprisoned soul longs To break its chains, to fly free! The unknown ones you conceal from me, oh star, Pure, brotherly love embracing with angels, In harmony with angels as your sphere resounds. There, our faults and fears are unknown, Days and years pass calmly, unnoticed, no thought Of counting them, or recalling them in sadness. Lovely evening star, gem that cheers the heavens, Let this oppressed, imprisoned soul be raised from Earthly confinement to fly with your lovely rays!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Italian (Italiano) to English copyright © 2023 by Betsy Schwarm, (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 Italian (Italiano) by Andrea Maffei (1798 - 1885)
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This text was added to the website: 2023-09-20
Line count: 24
Word count: 92
Lo spazzacamin! Son d'aspetto brutto e nero, Tingo ognun che mi vien presso; Sono d'abiti mal messo, Sempre scalzo intorno io vo. Ah! di me chi sia più lieto Sulla terra dir non so. Spazzacamin! Signori, signore, lo spazzacamin Vi salva dal fuoco per pochi quattrin. Io mi levo innanzi al sole E di tutta la cittade Col mio grido empio le strade E nemico alcun non ho. Ah, di me chi sia più lieto (ecc.) Talor m'alzo sovra i tetti, Talor vado per le sale; Col mio nome i fanciulletti Timorosi e quieti io fo. Ah, di me chi sia più lieto (ecc.)
Chimney sweep! My face is ugly and sooty, everyone who comes near me gets dirty, my clothes are a mess, I always go barefoot… I don’t know anyone on Earth happier than me! Chimney sweep! Ladies and gentlemen, the chimney-sweep will save you from fire for just a few pennies! I rise before dawn, and all over town I fill the streets with my call, and have not a single enemy... I don’t know anyone (etc.) Now I’m up on the roof, now I’m in the room, and my name is enough to frighten the children to silence. I don’t know anyone (etc.)
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Italian (Italiano) to English copyright © 2025 by Will Crutchfield, (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 Italian (Italiano) by S. Manfredo Maggioni
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This text was added to the website: 2025-05-01
Line count: 20
Word count: 103
Se tranquillo a te d'accanto, Donna mia, talun mi vede, O felice appien mi crede, O guarito dall'amor: Ma non tu, che sai pur quanto Combattuto e oppresso ho il cor. Come lago, che stagnante Par che dorma, e appena mova, Ma tempeste in fondo cova Sconosciute al vïator, ho in calma ho nel sembiante, Ho scompiglio ho in fondo al cor. Se un sospiro, se un lamento Il timore a me contende, Dell'amore che m' accende Non scemò l' intenso ardor; Come lampa in monumento, Non veduto avvampa in cor. E vivrà benchè represso, Benchè privo di conforto; E vivrebbe, ancor che morto Lo volesse il tuo rigor: Chè alimento da sè stesso Prende amore in nobil cor.
Text Authorship:
- by Felice Romani (1788 - 1865), "Il mistero"
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Note: modern spelling changes "mova" to "muova"Mescetemi il vino! Tu solo, o bicchiero, Fra gaudi terreni non sei menzognero, Tu, vita de' sensi, letizia del cor. Amai; m'infiammaro due sguardi fatali; Credei l'amicizia fanciulla senz'ali, Follia de' prim'anni, fantasma illusor. Mescetemi il vino, letizia del cor. L'amico, l'amante col tempo ne fugge, Ma tu non paventi chi tutto distrugge: L'età non t'offende, t'accresce virtù. Sfiorito l'aprile, cadute le rose, Tu sei che n'allegri le cure noiose: Sei tu che ne torni la gioia che fu. Mescetemi il vino, letizia del cor. Chi meglio risana del cor le ferite? Se te non ci desse la provvida vite, Sarebbe immortale l'umano dolor. Mescetemi il vino! Tu sol, o bicchiero, Fra gaudi terreni non sei menzognero, Tu, vita de' sensi, letizia del cor.
Pour me some wine! Only you, oh wineglass… among earthly pleasures, are not deceitful. You, life of the senses and joy of the heart! I have loved: two fatal eyes inflamed me. I believed that friendship would never fly away. Youthful folly, illusory phantom! Pour me some wine, joy of the heart. Friends and lovers flee with time, but you do not fear that destroyer of all. Age only increases your virtues. When April’s flowers are gone, when roses fade, It’s you who lightens our tiresome cares. It’s you who restores the joy of the past. Pour me some wine, joy of the heart. Who better cures a wounded heart? If the generous vine did not give you to us, human sorrow would be immortal! Pour me some wine! Only you, oh wineglass, Among earthly pleasures, are not deceitful. You, life of the senses and joy of the heart!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Italian (Italiano) to English copyright © 2025 by Will Crutchfield, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in Italian (Italiano) by Andrea Maffei (1798 - 1885)
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2025-05-02
Line count: 20
Word count: 149