MARIANGELA CHATZISTAMATIOU soprano KEVIN BYLSMA piano

Friday, April 8, 2011 8 p.m. Bryan Recital Hall Moore Musical Arts Center

translations

Lamenti Barocchi
The lament plays an important part in Baroque vocal repertoire, with an earlier literary and musical counterpart in the sixteenth-century madrigal. In early opera one of the most influential such compositions was Monteverdis Lament of Arianna, a work that survives from a lost opera on the subject of Ariadne, deserted by Theseus on the island of Naxos. Monteverdi adapted the lament as a madrigal, following contemporary practice, and later, towards the end of his life, gave it a sacred text. In 1638, in his eighth book of madrigals, he provided another notable lament in his Lamento della ninfa, one of his Canti amorosi, the counterpart of the Canti guerrieri that form the first part of the collection. The lament itself, based on the distinctive and increasingly customary descending four notes in the bass, is framed by sections for two tenors and bass. The text is by Rinuccini, the author of Arianna and Il ballo delle ingrate.
Keith Anderson, Lamenti Barocchi, Vol. 2 NAXOS ASIN: B000001474

(It.: lament) Usually, a vocal piece based on a mournful text, often built over a descending tetrachord ostinato and common in cantatas and operas of the Baroque period.

Lamento

Originating in ancient Greek drama and further developed in Latin poetry, the lament topos enjoyed a privileged status in European literature. Set apart as an exceptional moment of emotional climax or particularly intense expression, it provided an occasion for special formal development and for the display of expressive rhetoric and of affective imagery. Laments were most often associated with female characters and the female voice.
Ellen Rosand. Lamento. In Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online, http://0-www.oxfordmusiconline.com. maurice.bgsu.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/15904 (accessed March 18, 2011).

1.An unfortunate side effect that results from being overly exposed to morality. 2. To feel the secret little man screaming and scraping your inside stomach to let u know you have done wrong and will continue to do so till error that has been done is no more. When someone tries to make you feel guilty for thinking/ feeling/doing things a certain way. or when someone tries to make you do whatever they want you to so they start making you feel bad about something... so then youll give in and do whatever they want. he convinced me to do what he wanted by guilt tripping me!

guilt

lament, n. Pronunciation: Etymology: < weeping, lamentation. An act of lamenting, a passionate or demonstrative expression of grief. lament, n.OED Online. November 2010. Oxford University Press. http://0-www.oed. com.maurice.bgsu.edu/viewdictionaryentry/Entry/105284 (accessed March 17, 2011).

guilt trip

www.urbandictionary.com guilt, n Pronunciation: /gIlt/ Etymology: Old English gylt strong masculine < prehistoric type *gulti-z; related to guilt v. 1. A failure of duty, delinquency; offence, crime, sin. 2. Responsibility for an action or event; the fault of (some person). (In Old English const. genitive.) 3. Desert (of a penalty); esp. in phrase without guilt, without having done anything to deserve ones fate, innocently. 4. The state (meriting condemnation and reproach of conscience) of having wilfully committed crime or heinous moral offence; criminality, great culpability. guilt, n. OED Online. March 2011. Oxford University Press. 2 April 2011 <http://0-www. oed.com.maurice.bgsu.edu/view/Entry/82364?rskey=VluVeh&result=1>.

Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643) Author: Carlo Milanuzzi (ca. 1647) Si dolce l tormento, madrigal for solo voice SV 332 A simple strophic madrigal. Very dissonant but very pleasant, quite contrasting qualities like the tilte itself....so sweet is the torment.

Si dolce l tormento Chin seno mi sta, Chio vivo contento Per cruda belt. Nel ciel di bellezza Saccreschi fierezza Et manchi piet: Che sempre qual scoglio Allonda dorgoglio Mia fede sar. La speme fallace Rivolgam il pi. Diletto ne pace Non scendano a me. E lempia chadoro Mi nieghi ristoro Di buona merc: Tra doglia infinita, Tra speme tradita Vivr la mia f Se fiamma damore Gi mai non sent Quel riggido core Chil cor mi rap, Se nega pietate La cruda beltate Che lalma invagh: Ben fia che dolente, Pentita e languente

So sweet is the torment that I have in my heart that I live happily for cruel beauty. Heavenly beauty may increase beauty and be lacking in pity: but like a rock my fidelity will stand against the waves of pride. Deceptive hope I turned about my feet Neither delight not peace may come to me and the pitiless one whom I adore may deny me the comfort of kind mercy: but my faith will live amid infinite sorrow and betrayed hope. If the unyielding heart that has ravaged my heart has never felt the flame of love, if it denies me mercy , the cruel man who has made me love him, may he in sorrow, regret and suffering, one day sigh for me.

Translation by Bard Suverkrop Edited by Mariangela Chatzistamatiou

Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643) Libretto by Ottavio Rinuccini (1562-1621) Lamento della Ninfa, Amor from the Eigth Book of Madrigals, SV 163 - Madrigali Guerrieri ed Amorosi

Published in 1638 as a 5-part madrigal

Non havea Febo ancora recato al mondo il d, chuna donzella fuora del proprio albergo usc. Sul pallidetto volto scorgeasi il suo dolor, spesso gli venia sciolto un gran sospir dal cor. S calpestando fiori errava hor qua, hor l, i suoi perduti amori cos piangendo va: Amor, dicea, il ciel mirando, il pi fermo, dove, dov la f chel traditor giur? Fa che ritorni il mio amor comei pur fu, o tu mancidi, chio non mi tormenti pi. Miserella, ah pi no, no, tanto gel soffrir non pu. Non vo pi chei sospiri se non lontan da me, no, no che i martiri pi non darammi aff. Perch di lui mi struggo, tuttorgoglioso sta, che si, che si sel fuggo ancor mi pregher? Se ciglio ha pi sereno colei, chel mio non , gi non rinchiude in seno, Amor, s bella f. Ne mai s dolci baci da quella bocca havrai, ne pi soavi, ah taci, taci, che troppo il sai. S tra sdegnosi pianti spargea le voci al ciel; cos ne cori amanti mesce amor fiamma, e gel. The Sun had not brought The day to the world yet, When a maiden Went out of her dwelling. On her pale face Grief could be seen, Often from her heart A deep sigh was drawn. Thus, treading upon flowers, She wandered, now here, now there, And lamented her lost loves Like this: - O Love - she said, Gazing at the sky, as she stood Wheres the fidelity That the deceiver promised? - Make my love come back As he used to be Or kill me, so that I will not suffer anymore. Poor her! She cannot bear All this coldness! - I dont want him to sigh any longer But if hes far from me. No! He will not make me suffer Anymore, I swear! Hes proud Because I languish for him. Perhaps if I fly away from him He will come to pray to me again. If her eyes are more serene Than mine, O Love, she does not hold in her heart A fidelity so pure as mine. And you will not receive from those lips, Kisses as sweet as mine, nor softer. Oh, dont speak! Dont speak! you know better than that! So amidst disdainful tears, She spread her crying to the sky; Thus, in the lovers hearts Love mixes fire and ice.
Translation by Paolo Montanari
only the text in bold in sung

Claudio Monteverdi Libretto by Ottavio Rinuccini Lamento d Arianna SV 22 The only surviving part of the opera Arianna. Published in 1614 [madrigal for five voices], from Libro VI de madrigali, no. 1. Location: Naxos- Greece Theseus left Arianna behind of their trip from Crete back home. Arianna feels alone, frightened and homesick. She calls out to Theseus to come back and take her and not to leave her there. If he does not return, then she wants to die.

Lasciatemi morire! E che volete voi che mi conforte In cos hdura sorte, In cos gran martire?, Lasciatemi morire! O Teseo, O Teseo mio, Si, che mio ti vo dir, che mio pur sei, Bench tinvoli, ahi crudo, a gli occhi miei Volgiti, Teseo mio, O Dio! Volgiti indietro a rimirar colei Che lasciato ha per te la Patria e il Regno, E in queste arene ancora, Cibo di fere dispietate crude, Lascier lossa ignude. O Teseo, O Teseo mio, Se tu sapessi, O Dio! Se tu sapessi, ohim, come saffanna La povera Arianna, forse pentito Rivolgeresti ancor la prora al lito: Ma con laure serene Tu te ne vai felice et io qu piango. A te prepara Atene Liete pompe superbe, Ed io rimango Cibo di fere in solitarie arene. Te luno e laltro tuo vecchio parente Stringeran lieti, ed io Pi non vedrovvi, O Madre, O Padre mio! Dove, dov la fede Che tanto mi giuravi? Cos ne lalta fede Tu mi ripon deglAvi? Son queste le corone Onde madorni il crine? Questi gli scettri sono, Queste le gemme e glori? Lasciarmi in abbandono A fera che mi strazi e mi divori? Ah Teseo, ah Teseo mio, Lascierai tu morire Invan piangendo, invan gridando aita, La misera Arianna Cha te fidossi e ti di gloria e vita? Ahi, che non pur rispondi! Ahi, che pi daspe sordo a miei lamenti!

Let me die; Why would you want to comfort me in such a harsh fate in such a great martyrdom? Just let me die. Oh Theseus, Oh my Theseus, although I want to call you mine more than you are really mine, Although you have vanished, ah cruel man! Come back, my Theseus. Oh God! Turn back to see the one who gave up her homeland and reign just for you, and on these sands will leave her bare bones as food for wild beasts. Oh, Theseus, if you only knew, oh god! Alas, if you only knew the terrible fear poor Ariadne is suffering, perhaps you would relentand point your prow back to the shore. But with soft breezes, you sail away, happy while I lament here. Athena is preparing a superb celebration for you, and I will become food for beasts on these lonely sands. You will joyfully embrace your happy aged parents, but, oh mother, oh father, I will never see you again. Where is the faithfulness That you swore to me so much? Is this how you set me on the high throne of your ancestors? Are these the crowns with which you adorn my locks? Are these the scepters, the jewels and the gold; leaving me abandoned for the wild beast to tear and devour? Ah, my Theseus, will you let her die, weeping and calling in vain for help, wretched Ariadne that trusted you and gave you glory and saved your very life? Alas, he doesnt even answer! Alas, he is deafer than a snake to my cries!

O nembi, O turbi, O venti, Sommergetelo voi dentra quellonde! Correte, orche e balene, E delle membra immonde Empiete le voragini profonde! Che parlo, ahi, che vaneggio? Misera, oim, che chieggio? O Teseo, O Teseo mio, Non son, non son quellio, Non son quellio che feri detti sciolse; Parl laffanno mio, parl il dolore, Parl la lingua, s, ma non gi il core. Misera! Ancor d loco a la tradita speme? E non si spegne, Fra tanto scherno ancor, damor Il foco spegni tu morte, omai, le fiamme indegne! O Madre, O Padre, O dellantico Regno superbi alberghi, Ovebbi dor la cuna, O servi, O fidi amici (ahi fato indegno!) Mirate ove mha scortempia fortuna, Mirate di che duol mha fatto herede Lamor mio, la mia fede, E laltrui inganno, Cos va chi troppama e troppo crede.

Oh clouds, storms, winds! Bury him beneath those waves! Hurry, you whales and sea monsters, and fill your deep whirlpools with his filthy limbs! But what am I saying? Why do I rage so?Alas, wretch that I am, what am I asking for? Oh, my Theseus, it is not me, I am not the one who uttered those terrible words; It was my breathless fear and pain that spoke; My tongue may have spoken, but not my heart. Wretch! I still give in to my betrayed hope, and it is not extinguished. Amidst such scorn still the fire of love? Extinguish, oh Death, those unworthy flames. Oh mother, oh father, oh lofty palaces of the ancient realm, where I was raised! Oh servants and faithful friends admire where cruel fate has brought me! See the sorrow I have inherited from my love, my faithfulness and his betrayal. That happens to her who loves too much and believes too much!
Translation by Mariangela Chatzistamatiou

Francesco Cavalli (1602-1676) Libretto by Giovanni Francesco Busenello (1598-1659) From Gli amori dApollo e di Dafne (Opera in a prologue and three acts)

Act I- Scene 8 (Procri Sola) Procri, alone seeks the return of her lover, Cefalo, who once loved her. She realizes that she is no longer the same person since Cefalos betrayal. Why should the gods seek lovers on earth, she asks; can Olympus be so lacking in the lovable? She pleads for Cefalo to return to her, as jealousy leads her to curses and anger. Her laments go out to the woods and the desert places; sorrow is too much when it is silent. Come back, please come back to me, You handsome assassin of my faith! I beg you: come back to me, Oh traitor! For I no longer hope that you withdrew your heart from me, that you have found a new love that you pray. I am always this Procris, which was the delight of your love. Alas, Im wrong, I am not anymore! Come back, come back to your senses handsome assassin of my loyalty! I beg you, come back to me because I can no longer hope. I am always the same Procris, that was the delight of your love. Alas, Im wrong, I am not anymore! In you I breathe my twilight and my desperate desire to see you destroys my heart. And yet I love you more: Although you have torn my heart apart. Cephalus, come back to me, I am the one who was your beloved! Alas, Im wrong, I am not anymore! Jealousy forces me towards profanity and rage. Both religion and respect repress my tears at the bottom of my heart. Hell has no greater evil than mine: I am damned, but I cannot curse! Cephalus, come back to me, I am the one who was your idol; Alas, Im wrong, I am not anymore! Excessive is the pain when you are silent.

Translation by Mariangela Chatzistamatiou

enlightenment, n.
Pronunciation: U.S. /nlatnm()/ a. The action of bringing someone to a state of greater knowledge, understanding, or insight; the state of being enlightened in this way. Also: an instance of this. rare before 19th century. b. spec. Usu. with capital initial. The action or process of hfreeing human understanding from the accepted and customary beliefs sanctioned by traditional, esp. religious, authority, chiefly by rational and scientific inquiry into all aspects of human life, which became a characteristic goal of philosophical writing in the late 17th and 18th centuries. Freq. in the Age of Enlightenment.
enlightenment, n. OED Online. March 2011. Oxford University Press. http://0-www. oed.com.maurice.bgsu.edu/view/Entry/62448?rskey=2WDfoy&result=5&isAdvanced= false (accessed March 28, 2011).

Bilitis A fictional character created by French poet and writer Pierre Lous presented in his book Chansons de Bilitis published in Paris in 1894. Each of the three poems that Debussy chose to set, represents a phase of the life of Bilitis and in a bigger picture, of an average woman: 1.Childhood and first sexual encounters 2.indulgence in mature sexuality 3. maturity and lonelyness Pierre Lous. Les Chansons De Bilitis. Paris: Librairie Charpentier Et Fasquelle, 1926.

The restraint that Ravel shows when evoking a past style within the Western musical tradition gives way to a more open sensuality in his exotic works, when fantasy rather than homage is involved... The poems of the first and third of the Chansons madcasses project an archetypal Western image of the Oriental woman, at once both mute servant and enigmatic object of desire; the sensuous atmosphere is established at the opening of the first song by the weaving flute line and the oscillating minor 2nds in the vocal part. But that Ravel was not entirely blind to the political realities of colonialism is suggested by his choice, for the second song, of a text dealing with the extermination of a treacherous settler who had tried to destroy the Madagascan people and their customs. His identification with the poem, denounced by one member of the audience at the premire as unpatriotic, is evident from the violence of the setting. Ravel here drops his usual reserve: 2nd and 7th dissonances are freely employed, along with sections of bitonality, while the word aoua, an addition Ravel made to the text himself, is used as a refrain throughout, almost in the manner of a war cry. Barbara L. Kelly. Ravel, Maurice. In Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online, http://0-www.oxfordmusiconline.com.maurice.bgsu.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/52145 (accessed March 30, 2011).

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937) Evariste Desire de Forges Parny (1753-1814) Chansons madcasses
*Three songs by Ravel (written in 1925-26), to texts by Evariste Dsir de Forges Parny (1753 - 1814). They were written to a commission by Elizabeth Sprague-Coolidge, and are dedicated to her. The songs are scored for voice, flute, cello and piano (usually sung by a mezzo-soprano but baritones have also taken them into their repertoire). At the first performance (at the American Academy in Rome on 8th May 1926) the soloist was Jane Bathori.

Nahandove Nahandove, belle Nahandove! Loiseau nocturne a commenc ses cris, la pleine lune brille sur ma tte, et la rose naissante humecte mes cheveux. Voici lheure: qui peut tarrter, Nahahndove, belle Nahandove! Le lit de feuilles est prpar; je lai parsem de fleurs et dherbes odorifrantes; il est digne de tes charmes. Nahandove, belle Nahandove! Elle vient. Jai reconnu la respiration prcipite que donne une marche rapide; jentends le froissement de la pagne qui lenveloppe; cest elle, cest Nahandove, la belle Nahandove! Reprends haleine, ma jeune amie; repose-toi sur mes genoux. Que ton regard est enchanteur! Que le mouvement de ton sein est vif et dlicieux sous la main qui le presse! Tu souris, Nahandove, belle Nahandove! Tes baisers pntrent jusqu lme; tes caresses brlent tous mes sens; arrte, ou je vais mourir. Meurt-on de volupt, Nahandove, belle Nahandove? Le plaisir passe comme un clair. Ta douce haleine saffaiblit, tes yeux humides se referment, ta tte se penche mollement, et tes transports steignent dans la langueur. Jamais tu ne fus si belle, Nahandove, belle Nahandove! Tu pars, et je vais languir dans les regrets et les dsirs. Je languirai jusquau soir. Tu reviendras ce soir, Nahandove, belle Nahandove! Nahandove, oh beautiful Nahandove! The night bird has begun to sing, the full moon shines overhead, and the first dew is moistening my hair. Now is the time: who can be delaying you? Oh beautiful Nahandove! The bed of leaves is ready; I have strewn flowers and aromatic herbs; it is worthy of your charms, oh beautiful Nahandove! She is coming. I recognise the rapid breathing of someone walking quickly; I hear the rustle of her skirt. It is she, it is the beautiful Nahandove! Catch your breath, my young sweetheart; rest on my lap. How enchanting your gaze is, how lively and delightful the motion of your breast as my hand presses it! You smile, oh beautiful Nahandove! Your kisses reach into my soul; your caresses burn all my senses. Stop or I will die! Can one die of ecstasy? Oh beautiful Nahandove! Pleasure passes like lightning; your sweet breathing becomes calmer, your moist eyes close again, your head droops, and your raptures fade into weariness. Never were you so beautiful, oh beautiful Nahandove! Now you are leaving, and I will languish in sadness and desires. I will languish until sunset. You will return this evening, oh beautiful Nahandove!

*Maurice Ravel Frontispice - Chansons Madcasses. Maurice Ravel Frontispice. Web. 30 Mar. 2011. <http:// www.maurice-ravel.net/chansons.htm>.

Aoua! Aoua! Aoua! Mfiez-vous des Blancs, Awa! Awa! Do not trust the white men, habitants du rivage. you shore-dwellers! Du temps de nos pres, In our fathers day, des Blancs descendirent dans cette le. white men came to this island. On leur dit: Voil des terres, Here is some land, they were told, que vos femmes les cultivent; your women may cultivate it. soyez justes, soyez bons, Be just, be kind, et devenez nos frres. and become our brothers. Les Blancs promirent, et cependant ils faisaient des retranchements. Un fort menaant sleva; le tonnerre fut renferm dans des bouches dairain; leurs prtres voulurent nous donner un Dieu que nous ne connaissons pas, ils parlrent enfin dobissance et desclavage. Plutt la mort. Le carnage fut long et terrible; mais malgr la foudre quils vormissaient, et qui crasait des armes entires, ils furent tous extermins. Aoua! Aoua! Mfiez-vous des Blancs! Nous avons vu de nouveaux tyrans, plus forts et plus nombreaux, planter leur pavillon sur le rivage: le ciel a combattu pour nous; il a fiat tomber sur eux les pluies, les temptes et les vents empoisonnes. Ils ne sont plus, et nous vivons, et nous vivons libres. Aoua! Mfiez-vous des Blancs, habitants du rivage. Il est doux Il est doux de se coucher, durant la chaleur, sous un arbre touffu, et dattendre que le vent du soir amme la fracheur. Femmes, approchez. Tandis que je me repose ici sous un arbre touffu, occupez mon oreille par vos accents prolongs. Rptez la chanson de la jeune fille, lorsque ses doigts tressent la natte ou lorsquassise auprs du riz, elle chasse les oiseaux avides. Le chant plat mon me. La danse est pour moi presque aussi douce quun baiser. Que vos pas soient lents; quils imitent les attitudes du plaisir et labandon de la volupt. Le vent du soir se lve; la lune commence briller au travers des arbres de la montagne. Allez, et prparez le repas. It is sweet in the hot afternoon to lie under a leafy tree and wait for the evening breeze to bring coolness. Come, women! While I rest here under a leafy tree, fill my ears with your sustained tones. Sing again the song of the girl plaiting her hair, or the girl sitting near the ricefield chasing away the greedy birds. Singing pleases my soul; and dancing is nearly as sweet as a kiss. Tread slowly, and make your steps suggest the postures of pleasure and ecstatic abandonment. The breeze is starting to blow; the moon glistens through the mountain trees. Go and prepare the evening meal
Translations by Peter Low

The whites promised, and all the while they were making entrenchments. They built a menacing fort, and they held thunder captive in brass cannon; their priests tried to give us a God we did not know; and later they spoke of obedience and slavery. Death would be preferable! The carnage was long and terrible; but despite their vomiting thunder which crushed whole armies, they were all wiped out. Awa! Awa! Do not trust the white men! We saw new tyrants, stronger and more numerous, pitching tents on the shore. Heaven fought for us. It caused rain, tempests and poison winds to fall on them. They are dead, and we live, we live free! Awa! Awa! Do not trust the white men, you shore-dwellers!

Claude Debussy (1862-1918) Poetry: Pierre Lous (1870-1925)

Chansons de Bilitis
3 settings by Debussy, 1897 8, for v. and pf. of prose-poems by Pierre Lous. They are La Flte de Pan, La Chevelure and Tombeau des Naades. Orch. version 1926 by Delage. Incidental mus. for 2 fl., 2 hp., and celesta to acc. recitation of poems, 1900; arr. Boulez for reciter, 2 hp., 2 fl., and celesta 1954.
Chansons de Bilitis. In The Oxford Dictionary of Music, 2nd ed. rev., edited by Michael Kennedy. Oxford Music Online, http://0-www.oxfordmusiconline.com.maurice.bgsu.edu/subscriber/article/opr/t237/e2006 (accessed March 30, 2011).

La flte de Pan Pour le jour des Hyacinthies, Il ma donn une syrinx faite De roseaux bien taills, Unis avec la blanche cire Qui est douce mes lvres comme le miel. Il mapprend jouer, assise sur ses genoux; Mais je suis un peu tremblante. Il en joue aprs moi, si doucement Que je lentends peine. Nous navons rien nous dire, Tant nous sommes prs lun de lautre; Mais nos chansons veulent se rpondre, Et tour tour nos bouches Sunissent sur la flte. Il est tard; Voici le chant des grenouilles vertes Qui commence avec la nuit. Ma mre ne croira jamais Que je suis reste si longtemps A chercher ma ceinture perdue. For the festival of Hyacinthus he gave me a syrinx, a set of pipes made from well-cut reeds joined with the white wax that is sweet to my lips like honey. He is teaching me to play, as I sit on his knees; but I tremble a little. He plays it after me, so softly that I can scarcely hear it. We are so close that we have nothing to say to one another; but our songs want to converse, and our mouths are joined as they take turns on the pipes. It is late: here comes the chant of the green frogs, which begins at dusk. My mother will never believe I spent so long searching for my lost waistband.

La Chevelure Il ma dit: Cette nuit, jai rv. Javais ta chevelure autour de mon cou. Javais tes cheveux comme un collier noir Autour de ma nuque et sur ma poitrine. Je les caressais, et ctaient les miens; Et nous tions lis pour toujours ainsi, Par la mme chevelure, la bouche sur la bouche, Ainsi que deux lauriers nont souvent quune racine. Et peu peu, il ma sembl. Tant nos membres taient confondus, Que je devenais toi-mme, Ou que tu entrais en moi comme mon songe. Quand il eut achev, Il mit doucement ses mains sur mes paules, Et il me regarda dun regard si tendre,Que je baissai les yeux avec un frisson. He told me: Last night I had a dream. Your hair was around my neck, it was like a black necklace around my nape and on my chest. I was stroking your hair, and it was my own; thus the same tresses joined us forever, with our mouths touching, just as two laurels often have only one root. And gradually I sensed, since our limbs were so entwined, that I was becoming you and you were entering me like my dream. When hed finished, he gently put his hands on my shoulders, and gazed at me so tenderly that I lowered my eyes, quivering.

Le Tombeau des Naades Le long du bois couvert de givre, je marchais; Mes cheveux devant ma bouche Se fleurissaient de petits glaons, Et mes sandales taient lourdes De neige fangeuse et tasse. Il me dit: Que cherches-tu? Je suis la trace du satyre. Ses petits pas fourchus alternent Comme des trous dans un manteau blanc. Il me dit: Les satyres sont morts. Les satyres et les nymphes aussi. Depuis trente ans, il na pas fait un hiver aussi terrible. La trace que tu vois est celle dun bouc. Mais restons ici, o est leur tombeau. Et avec le fer de sa houe il cassa la glace De la source ou jadis riaient les naades. Il prenait de grands morceaux froids, Es les soulevant vers le ciel ple, Il regardait au travers. I was walking along in the frost-covered woods; in front of my mouth my hair blossomed in tiny icicles, and my sandals were heavy with muddy caked snow. He asked: What are you looking for? Im following the tracks of the satyr his little cloven hoofprints alternate like holes in a white cloak. He said: The satyrs are dead. The satyrs are dead, and the nymphs too. In thirty years there has not been such a terrible winter. Thats the trail of a he-goat. But lets pause here, where their tomb is. With his hoe he broke the ice of the spring where the water-nymphs used to laugh. There he was, picking up large cold slabs of ice, lifting them toward the pale sky, and peering through them. Bilitis translations by Peter Low

What you have done with my Bilitis (poems) is delightfully good, you cannot imagine the pleasure they give me. (Pierre Lous to Claude Debussy)

Kurt Weill: (1900-1950) Words by Roger Fernay Youkali: Tango Habanera (1935)

Wandering at the will of the sea My vagabond bark Led me to the end of the world Its quite a small island But the sprite who dwells there Politely invites us To tour it Youkali Is the land of our desires Youkali It means happiness and pleasure; Youkali It is the land where we leave cares behind It is the beacon in our clouded night The star we follow Its Youkali And life drags us along Tedious and banal Yet the poor human soul Seeking oblivion everywhere Knew how, in leaving this earth, To find the mystery Where our dreams are buried In some Youkali Youkali Is the land of our desires Youkali It means happiness and pleasure; Youkali It is the land where we leave cares behind It is the beacon in our clouded night The star we follow Its Youkali. Translation by Susan Grayson

Cest presquau bout du monde Ma barque vagabonde Errant au gr de londe My conduisit un jour Lle est toute petite Mais la fe que lhabite Gentiment nous invite A en faire le tour. Youkali Cest le pays de nos dsirs Youkali Cest le bonheur, cest le plaisir Youkali Cest la terre o lon quitte tous les soucis Cest, dans notre nuit, comme une claircie Ltoile quon suit Cest Youkali Youkali Cest le respect de tous les voeux changs Youkali cest le pays des beaux amours partags Cest lesprance Qui est au coeur de tous les humains La dlivrance Que nous attendons tous pour demain Youkali Cest le pays de nos dsirs Youkali Cest le bonheur, cest le plaisir Mais cest un rve, une folie Il ny a pas de Youkali Et la vie nous entrane Lassante, quotidienne Mais la pauvre me humaine Cherchant partout loubli A, pour quitter la terre Se trouver le mystre o rves se terrent en quelque Youkali