Voi ch’ascoltate in rime sparse il suono (Claudio Monteverdi)

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  • CPDL #20241:      Score information: A4, 8 pages, 1004 kB   
Instrumental parts:
Violins:   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 191 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Basso Continuo:   Score information: A4, 1 page, 174 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Editor: Peter Rottländer (submitted 2009-09-22).   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Voi ch’ascoltate in rime sparse il suono
Composer: Claudio Monteverdi
Lyricist: Francesco Petrarca
Number of voices: 5vv   Voicing: SATTB

Genre: SecularMadrigal

Language: Italian
Instruments: 2 Violins, Basso continuo

First published: 1641 in Selva morale e spirituale, no. 2

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

Italian.png Italian text

Voi ch'ascoltate in rime sparse il suono
di quei sospiri ond'io nutriva 'l core
in sul mio primo giovenil errore
quand'era in parte altr'uom da quel ch'i'sono

Del vario stile in ch'io piango et ragiono
fra le vane speranze e'l van dolore
ove sia chi per prova intenda amore
spero trovar pietà , non chè perdono.

Ma ben veggi or sì come al popol tutto
favola fui gran tempo, onde sovente
di me medesmo meco mi vergogno;

E del mio vaneggiar vergogna e 'l frutto
e 'l pentirsi, e 'l conoscer chiaramente
che quanto piace al mondo è breve sogno.
  Francesco Petrarca, Canzoniere 1
 

English.png English translation

You who hear the sound, in scattered rhymes,
of those sighs on which I fed my heart,
in my first vagrant youthfulness,
when I was partly other than I am,

I hope to find pity, and forgiveness,
for all the modes in which I talk and weep,
between vain hope and vain sadness,
in those who understand love through its trials.

Yet I see clearly now I have become
an old tale amongst all these people, so that
it often makes me ashamed of myself;

and shame is the fruit of my vanities,
and remorse, and the clearest knowledge
of how the world’s delight is a brief dream.
 Translation A.S.Kline

German.png German translation

Ihr, die ihr in ausgestreuten Reimen den Klang hört
jener Seufzer, an denen ich mein Herz nährte
in meinem ersten jugendlichen Irrtum
als ich zum Teil ein anderer Mann als heute war,

in abwechslungsreichen Stilen, in welchen ich beklage und bedenke
zwischen eitler Hoffnung und leerem Schmerz,
wo der sei, der durch die Beweise die Liebe verstehe:
Ich hoffe Mitleid zu finden, aber keine Nachsicht.

Aber ich sehe wohl schon jetzt, wie ich bei allen Leuten
lange Zeit im Gerede war, deshalb schäme
ich mich wegen meiner selbst;

Und Scham ist die Frucht meines Wahns,
Und die Reue, und das klare Wissen,
daß, was der Welt so sehr gefällt, ein kurzer Traum ist.