Se il ciel mi divide (Niccolò Piccinni): Difference between revisions
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{{Editor|David Newman|2008-07-29|edtype=Contributor}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|12|650}}{{Copy|Public Domain}} | {{Editor|David Newman|2008-07-29|edtype=Contributor}}{{ScoreInfo|Letter|12|650}}{{Copy|Public Domain}} | ||
:'''Edition notes:''' Lyrics in Italian and English - English translation by Dr. Theodore Baker. Recit in B Major, Aria in D Minor. | :'''Edition notes:''' Lyrics in Italian and English - English translation by Dr. Theodore Baker. Recit in B Major, Aria in D Minor. | ||
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*[ | *[{{website|artsong}}2007/anthology-of-italian-song-of-the-seventeenth-and-eighteenth-centuries/ Parisotti's Anthology] on Art Song Central | ||
==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== |
Revision as of 15:51, 31 March 2012
Music files
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- Contributor: David Newman (submitted 2008-07-29). Score information: Letter, 12 pages, 650 kB Copyright: Public Domain
- Edition notes: Lyrics in Italian and English - English translation by Dr. Theodore Baker. Recit in B Major, Aria in D Minor.
General Information
Title: Se il ciel mi divide
Composer: Niccolò Piccinni
Number of voices: 1v Voicing: Soprano solo
Genre: Secular, Aria
Language: Italian
Instruments: Piano
Published: Anthology of Italian song of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries (In two volumes) - Editor: Alessandro Parisotti (1853-1913) - Publisher: G. Schirmer - Copyright: 1894.
Description: The aria is from the opera "Alessandro nelle Indie" published in 1758.
External websites:
- Parisotti's Anthology on Art Song Central
Original text and translations
Italian text
Porro dunque morì.
Dunque perduto tutto è per me!
Dove trovar riposo senza l’amato bene?
E questo il nodo sospirato da noi?
Questa è la pace?
Questo il regno felice?
Ah! ch’io mi sento svellere il cor!
Come scordar quel volto, quegli sguardi, quei detti,
e quel costume, se ancor veggio presente il mio bel Nume?
Ah ch’io più nol vedrò!
Barbare stelle! Cleofide infelice!
Almeno accanto del caro bene;
Ah! ah! m’interrompe il pianto.
Se il ciel mi divide
dal caro mio sposo,
perchè non m’uccide
pietoso il martir?
Divisa un momento
dal dolce tesoro,
non vivo, non moro,
ma provo il tormento
d’un viver penoso,
d’un lungo morir.