by
Roberto Ascoli ( flourished 1891-1930 )
Serenata indiana
Language: Italian (Italiano)  after the English
Del sonno tra i fantasimi
Di te sognavo, o amore!
Mi desto: i venti trepididi sospirano,
È delle stelle vivido il fulgore.
Ti sognavo; e uno spirito
M'addusse, come fu?
Oh amor, sotto il balcone
Della camera, ove dimori tu!
Le aure errabonde languono
Sulle mute correnti.
Dei gigli neri vagano gli effluvii,
Come in sogno pensieri evanescenti.
All'usignolo il querulo canto
Nel petto muor:
Così debbo morire, o fior dell'anima,
Così sovra il tuor cuor!
Oh! Da terra sollevami!
Io muoio, io languo, io manco.
Piova in baci il tuor amor sulle miei palpebre
Bianche, sul labbro sitibondo e bianco.
Ahi! La mia guancia è pallida!
Il cuor battiti dà impetuosi!
Oh! Ancor contro il tuo stringilo:
Ivi s'infrangerà.
Text Authorship:
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):
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Garrett Medlock) , "Indian serenade", copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Harry Joelson
This text was added to the website: 2007-06-19
Line count: 24
Word count: 120
Indian serenade
Language: English  after the Italian (Italiano)
In sleep among the specters
I was dreaming of you, oh beloved!
I awaken: the anxious winds are sighing,
vivid brightness [coming] from the stars.
I was dreaming of you; and a spirit
Came toward me, how [could it have been]?
Oh beloved, beneath the balcony
Of the room where you live!
The wandering breezes languish
On the silent currents.
The scents of the black lilies roam
Like vague thoughts in [a] dream.
The querulous song of the nightingale
Dies in [its] breast:
Thus must I die, oh flower of [my] soul,
Thus, [upon] your heart!
Oh! raise me from the earth!
I am dying, I am languishing, I am failing.
Rain your love in kisses upon my white eyelids,
Upon [my] white, thirsty lips!
Ah! my cheek is pale!
[My] heart [is beating] wildly!
Oh! press it again against yours:
There it will break.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Italian (Italiano) to English copyright © 2020 by Garrett Medlock, (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 Roberto Ascoli ( flourished 1891-1930 )
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2020-08-07
Line count: 24
Word count: 145