Edition notes: Reformating of #11017, with minor corrections, as noted on the discussion page. Revised files uploaded 3/3/18. MusicXML source file(s) in compressed .mxl format.
Description: No. 18 of 20 motets published in 1546 in Venice by Antonio Gardano. (facsimile from the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Munich (4° Mus.pr. 42/3)). A Song of Songs motet to the Virgin Mary.
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Original text and translations
Insertions in the Vulgate text are italicised.
Latin text
Prima pars Ecce amica mea, columba mea,speciosa mea,formosa mea,
8b venit saliens in montibus, transiliens colles.
9 Similis est dilecta mea capree hynuloque cervorum. En dilecta mea,formosa mea
stat post parietem nostrum respiciens per fenestras, prospiciens per cancellos.
10 En dilectus meus loquitur mihi: "Surge, amica mea, columba mea, formosa mea,
et veni.
11 Iam enim hiems transiit, imber abiit et recessit. Columba mea, veni.
Secunda Pars
12 Flores apparuerunt in terra nostra, tempus putationis advenit; vox turturis audita est
in terra nostra,
13 ficus protulit grossos suos, vineae florentes dederunt odorem suum; surge, amica mea,
propera, speciosa mea, et veni,
14 columba mea, in foraminibus petrae, in caverna maceriae. Ostende faciem tuam mihi, sonet vox tua in auribus meis; vox enim tua dulcis, et facies tua decora.
English translation
Prima pars Behold, O my love, my dove, my beautiful, my beautiful one
8b She cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping over the hills.
9 My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart. Behold my beloved, my beautiful one,
standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.
10 Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one,
and come.
11 For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone. Come, my dove.
Secunda pars
12 The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice of the turtle is heard
in our land:
13 The fig tree hath put forth her green figs: the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love,
my beautiful one, and come:
14 My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely.