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Amor mi tiene in pugno, mi gira, rigira, m'annusa e poi sospira... Ahimè, che brutto segno! Son già forse indegno d'entrar nel suo regno e starvi ancora a gironzar? Eppur se adesso son sì dimesso, sparuto, gibbuto, sol buono a lagrimar, gli è per quei sospiri e i lunghi martiri cui senza ricetto amor m'ha costretto... Ma per un po' ch'io tento qual fui di ritornar..., vedrete a cento a cento le donzellette attorno a me cascar! D'amor tal'è il costume davvero tremendo che vivasi morendo e che si mora vivi, di tutto già privi, persin quando ancora molto c'è da assaporar... Per cui se adesso son sì dimesso, sparuto, gibbuto, sol buono a lagrimar,...
Text 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), "Amor mi tiene in pugno", published <<1918, from 36 Arie di Stile Antico, no. 31. [text verified 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Gretchen Armacost) , title 1: "Love holds me in his fist", copyright © 2002, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Stuart Price
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 21
Word count: 115
Love holds me in his fist, Spins me, turns me about, Smells me and then sighs... Ah me, what a troubled sign! Am I really, perhaps, unfit to enter into his kingdom And to stay there again to stroll about? And yet if now I am so lowly, Emaciated, misshapen, only good to weep, It is through these sighs and the long torments To which without refuge Love has compelled me... But when I try for a little To return to what I was..., You will see by the hundreds the young girls Falling around me! Such is the custom of Love, truly dreadful, That one may live dying, And that one may die alive, Already deprived of everything, Even when there is still much to here to savor... Because of which, if now I am so lowly, Emaciated, misshapen, only good to weep ... etc.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Italian (Italiano) to English copyright © 2002 by Gretchen Armacost, (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: 21
Word count: 146
