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L'Usignuolo
Original Language: Italian
Quel misero Usignuolo
Spiega la pompa de’ canori accenti,
E racconta il suo duolo
Al fonte, al prato, alla foresta, ai venti.
Piange l’ingiurie Filomena e i torti
D’un Trace ingannatore,
E non canta d’amore,
Ma con l’irata lingua
Ricorda al Ciel che i traditori estingua.
Chi credería che voce
Cara e soave tanto
Muovan gli sdegni al canto?
Noi pur, o belle avare,
Allor ch’al nostro ossequioso affetto
Son le mercedi rare,
Più di rabbia cantiam che per diletto.
Poet:
English
The Nightingale
That unhappy nightingale
voices the glory of song,
telling of its suffering to the streams,
the meadows, the forest, the winds.
Philomena laments her injuries and the wrongs committed on her by a deceitful Thracean,
not singing of love
but with wrathful voice
calls upon Heaven to exterminate traitors.
Who would think that a voice
so sweet and pleasing
would be inspired to sing by anger?
We too, o avaricious beauties,
while the rewards for our gentle
affections are few,
we sing more from vexation than from delight.
Translated by:
Richard Kolb
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L'Usignuolo
Published by Cor Donato Editions in historically correct modern transcription, including critical introductory notes on the work, editorial procedures, original texts with new English translations, and other contextual information about the piece.
Now available at CorDonatoEditions.com!
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