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O del mio amato ben perduto incanto! Lungi è dagli occhi miei chi m'era gloria e vanto! Or per le mute stanze sempre lo [cerco e]1 chiamo con pieno il cor di speranze? Ma cerco invan, chiamo invan! E il pianger m'è sì caro, che di pianto sol nutro il cor. Mi sembra, senza lui2, triste ogni loco. Notte mi sembra il giorno; mi sembra gelo il foco. Se pur talvolta spero di darmi ad altra cura, sol mi tormenta un pensiero: Ma, senza lui, che farò? Mi par così la vita vana cosa senza il mio ben.
1 Garrett: "cerco, sempre lo"
2 Male singers sometimes change this to "lei" so that the subject of the song is female rather than male.
Authorship:
- by Alberto Donaudy (1880 - 1941) [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 Stefano Donaudy (1879 - 1925), "O del mio amato ben", published <<1918, from 36 Arie di Stile Antico, no. 18. [text verified 1 time]
- by Marques L. A. Garrett (b. 1984), "O del mio amato ben", 2013 [voice and piano], from A Love Cycle: Songs of Happiness, Heartbreak, Hope, and Healing, no. 2. [text verified 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Donna Bareket) , title 1: "Oh, lost enchantment of my dearly beloved", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Juan Henríquez Concepción) , title 1: "Ay de mi bien amado", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Donna (Bareket) Breitzer
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 18
Word count: 98
Oh, lost enchantment of my dearly beloved! Far from my eyes is he who was, to me, glory and pride! Now through the empty rooms I always seek him and call him with a heart full of hopes? But I seek in vain, I call in vain! And the weeping is so dear to me, that with weeping alone I nourish my heart. It seems to me, without him, sad everywhere. The day seems like night to me; the fire seems cold to me. If, however, I sometimes hope to give myself to another cure, one thought alone torments me: But without him, what shall I do? To me, life seems a vain thing without my beloved.
Authorship:
- Translation from Italian (Italiano) to English copyright © by Donna (Bareket) Breitzer, (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 Alberto Donaudy (1880 - 1941)
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 18
Word count: 118