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Escucha Janáček: The Diary of One Who Disappeared; Nursery Rhymes; Moravian Folk Poetry de Nicky Spence & Julius Drake
ALBUMJanáček: The Diary of One Who Disappeared; Nursery Rhymes; Moravian Folk PoetryNicky Spence & Julius Drake

Canciones más populares de Clemmie Franks

Créditos

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Clemmie Franks
Clemmie Franks
Stimme und Gesang
Emily Burn
Emily Burn
Stimme und Gesang
Victoria Couper
Victoria Couper
Stimme und Gesang
Václava Housková
Václava Housková
Mezzosopran
Julius Drake
Julius Drake
Klavier
Nicky Spence
Nicky Spence
Tenor
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Leoš Janáček
Leoš Janáček
Komponist:in
Bernard Keefe
Bernard Keefe
Übersetzung

Letras

Zefka: „Bože dálný, nesmrtelný, procs’ cigánu život dal?
By bez cíle blúdil svetem, štván byl jenom dál a dál?
„Rozmilý Janícku, cuješ i skrivánky?
Prisedni si preca podlevá cigánky!“
Truchlá pesnicka srdcem hýbala.
Zefka: „Bože mocný, milosrdný!
Než v pustém svete zahynu,
daj mi poznat, daj mi cítit.“
Smutná pesnicka srdcem hýbala.
Zefka: „Porád tady enom jak solný slp stojíš,
všecko mi pripadá, že sa ty mne bojíš?
Prisedni si blížej, ne tak z povzdaleka,
ci ta moja barva preca enom leká?
Nejsu já tak cerná, jak sa ti uzdává,
gde nemože slnce, jinší je postava!“
Košulku na prsoch krapecku shrnula,
jemu sa všecka krev do hlavy vhrnula.
Translation:
Zefka: ‘God all-powerful, God eternal, why create the gypsy race?
Endless wandering, never resting, hunted on from place to place.
‘Why are you silent, Jan? Is it the lark you hear?
Come and sit beside me—surely you have no fear!’
That the mournful song filled his heart with pain.
Zefka: ‘God all-powerful, God redeemer,
ere I perish in the wilderness;
grant me knowledge of desiring.’
That her mournful song filled his heart with pain.
Zefka: ‘Why are you so silent? Won’t you then come near me?
Being so close to me seems to make you fear me.
Come and sit beside me; do not think I tease you.
Is it then my colour? Does my skin displease you?
But not all my body has endured the sunlight;
won’t you look more closely? Here my skin is snow-white!’
Then from her breast her bright kerchief she slowly turned,
and all his hot young blood rushed to his face and burned.
Written by: Leoš Janáček

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