The Crown of Roses (Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky)

From ChoralWiki
Jump to: navigation, search

Music files

L E G E N D Disclaimer How to download
ICON SOURCE
Icon_pdf.gif Pdf
Icon_snd.gif Midi
Icon_ly.gif LilyPond
File details.gif File details
Question.gif Help
  • CPDL #18886:       
Editor: Mark Chapman (submitted 2009-02-07).   Score information: A4, 3 pages, 312 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: The Crown of Roses
Composer: Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB (with minor divisi in bass)
Genre: SacredAnthem

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella

Published: 1883

Description: First published as #5 in the composer's collection "Songs for the Young" for voice & piano; arr. by the composer for chorus 1889.

External websites: 2,_Op.35_(Arensky,_Anton_Stepanovich) Arensky's String Quartet opus 35, whose second movement was arranged as Variations on a Theme by P.Tschaikovsy for String Orchestra (1894), op. 35a

Original text and translations

English.png English text

When Jesus Christ was yet a child
He had a garden small and wild,
Wherein He cherished roses fair,
And wove them into garlands there.

Now once, as summer time drew nigh,
There came a troop of children by,
And seeing roses on the tree,
With shouts they plucked them merrily.

Do you bind roses in your hair?
They cried, in scorn, to Jesus there,
The Boy said humbly: "Take, I pray,
All but the naked thorns away."

Then of the thorns they made a crown,
And with rough fingers pressed it down,
Till on His forehead fair and young,
Red drops of blood like roses sprung.

^

German.png German translation

Als Jesus noch ein Kind war,
hatte er einen Garten, gar klein und wild,
dort hegte er Rosen, hold und schön,
aus welchen er Girlanden wob.

Einmal dann, der Sommer nahte,
kam eine Schar Kinder vorbei,
sie sahen Rosen oben am Baum,
und mit glücklichem Geschrei pflückten sie diese.

„Bindest du dir Rosen ins Haar?“
fragten sie Jesus voller Hohn.
Der Junge sprach in bescheidnem Ton:
„Nehmt alles ausser der blanken Dornen fort,
das nur bitte ich euch.“

Aus den Dornen dann machten sie eine Krone,
und mit groben Händen pressten sie diese auf seinen Kopf,
bis auf seiner Stirn – schön und zart –
rote Tropfen Bluts wie Rosen erblühten.