An Wasserflüssen Babylon a 3 (Michael Praetorius): Difference between revisions

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*{{CPDLno|23593}} [{{filepath:Praetorius_-_An_Wasserfluessen_Babylon.pdf}} {{pdf}}] [{{filepath:Praetorius_-_An_Wasserfluessen_Babylon.mid}} {{mid}}]
*{{CPDLno|23593}} [{{filepath:Praetorius_-_An_Wasserfluessen_Babylon.pdf}} {{pdf}}] [{{filepath:Praetorius_-_An_Wasserfluessen_Babylon.mid}} {{mid}}]
{{Editor|Ross Jallo|2011-05-22}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|3|24}}{{Copy|Public Domain}}
{{Editor|Ross Jallo|2011-05-22}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|2|66}}{{Copy|Public Domain}}
:'''Edition notes:''' Original pitch; note values halved.  Editorial slurs and accidentals added.
:'''Edition notes:''' Original pitch; note values halved.  Editorial slurs and accidentals added.


Revision as of 19:22, 13 January 2013

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  • CPDL #23593:  Icon_pdf.gif Icon_snd.gif
Editor: Ross Jallo (submitted 2011-05-22).   Score information: Letter, 2 pages, 66 kB   Copyright: Public Domain
Edition notes: Original pitch; note values halved. Editorial slurs and accidentals added.

General Information

Title: An Wasserflüssen Babylon
Composer: Michael Praetorius
Lyricist: Wolfgang Dachstein

Number of voices: 3vv   Voicing: TTB

Genre: Sacred, Motet

Language: German
Instruments: a cappella
Published: Musae Sioniae, Part IX (Hamburg, 1610)

Description: This setting of Wolfgang Dachstein's chorale "An Wasserflüssen Babylon" is #135 in the composer's Musae Sioniae, Part IX.

Original text and translations

German.png German text

An Wasserflüssen Babylon
da saßen wir mit Schmerzen
als wir gedachten an Zion,
da weinten wir von Herzen.
Wir hingen auf mit schwerem Mut
die Harfen und die Orgeln gut
an ihre Bäum der Weiden,
die drinnen sind in ihrem Land;
da mußten wir viel Schmach und Schand
täglich von ihnen leiden.

English.png English translation

At the ryvers of Babilon,
There sat we downe ryght hevely;
Even whan we thought upon Sion,
We wepte together sorofully.
For we were in soch hevynes,
That we forgat al our merynes,
And lefte of all oure sporte and playe:
On the willye trees that were thereby
We hanged up oure harpes truly,
And morned sore both nyght and daye.
(Myles Coverdale, 1535)

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