Ständchen [Serenade]
Music by Richard Strauss
Lyrics by Adolf Friedrich von Schack
Mach auf, mach auf! doch leise, mein Kind,
Um Keinen vom Schlummer zu wecken!
Kaum murmelt der Bach, kaum zittert im Wind
Ein Blatt an den Büschen und Hecken;
Drum leise, mein Mädchen, daß nichts sich regt,
Nur leise die Hand auf die Klinke gelegt!
Open up, open up! but softly, my child,
So that no one’s roused from slumber!
The brook hardly murmurs, the breeze hardly moves
A leaf on the bushes and hedges;
Gently, my love, so nothing shall stir,
Gently with your hand as you lift the latch!
Mit Tritten, wie Tritte der Elfen so sacht,
Um über die Blumen zu hüpfen,
Flieg leicht hinaus in die Mondscheinnacht,
Zu mir in den Garten zu schlüpfen!
Rings schlummern die Blüten am rieselnden Bach
Und duften im Schlaf, nur die Liebe ist wach.
With steps as light as the steps of elves,
As they hop their way over flowers,
Flit out into the moonlit night,
Slip out to me in the garden!
The flowers are fragrant in sleep
By the rippling brook, only love is awake.
Sitz nieder! Hier dämmert's geheimnisvoll
Unter den Lindenbäumen.
Die Nachtigall uns zu Häupten soll
Von unseren Küssen träumen
Und die Rose, wenn sie am Morgen erwacht,
Hoch glühn von den Wonneschauern der Nacht.
Sit down! Dusk falls mysteriously here
Beneath the linden trees.
The nightingale above us
Shall dream of our kisses
And the rose, when it wakes at dawn,
Shall glow from our night’s rapture.
Waldseligkeit [Woodland Rapture]
Music by Richard Strauss
Lyrics by Richard Dehmel
Der Wald beginnt zu rauschen,
den Bäumen naht die Nacht,
als ob sie selig lauschen,
berühren sie sich sacht.
The wood begins to stir,
night draws near the trees;
as if blissfully listening,
they gently touch each other.
Und unter ihren Zweigen,
da bin ich ganz allein,
da bin ich ganz mein eigen:
ganz nur Dein!
And beneath their branches
I am utterly alone,
utterly my own;
utterly and only yours.
Les Étoiles [The Stars]
Music by Reynaldo Hahn
Lyrics by Théodore Faullin de Banville
Les cieux resplendissants d'Étoiles
Aux radieux frissonnements,
Ressemblent à des flots dormants
Que sillonnent de blanches voiles.
The heavens are resplendent with stars
Radiantly shimmering,
Looking like sleeping waves
That furrow white sails.
Quand l'azur déchire ses voiles,
Nous voyons les bleus firmaments,
Les cieux resplendissant d'Étoiles,
Aux radieux frissonnements.
When the sky tears up its sails,
We see the blue heavens,
The heavens are resplendent with stars
Radiantly shimmering.
Quel peintre mettra sur ses toiles,
O dieu! leurs clairs fourmillements,
Ces fournaises de diamants
Qu'à nos yeux ravis tu dévoiles,
Les cieux resplendissants d'Étoiles?
What painter will put on his canvas,
O god! their clear twinkling,
These furnaces of diamonds
What do you reveal to our delighted eyes,
Heavens resplendent with stars?
L’heure exquise [The Exquisite Hour]
Music by Reynaldo Hahn
Lyrics by Paul Verlaine
La lune blanche
Luit dans les bois;
De chaque branche
Part une voix
Sous la ramée...
Ô bien aimée.
The white moon
Gleams in the woods;
From every branch
There comes a voice
Beneath the boughs...
O my beloved.
L'étang reflète,
Profond miroir,
La silhouette
Du saule noir
Où le vent pleure...
Rêvons, c'est l'heure.
The pool reflects,
Deep mirror,
The silhouette
Of the black willow
Where the wind is weeping...
Let us dream, it is the hour.
Un vaste et tendre
Apaisement
Semble descendre
Du firmament
Que l'astre irise...
C'est l'heure exquise.
A vast and tender
Consolation
Seems to fall
From the sky
The moon illumines...
Exquisite hour.
“Allons ! Il le faut…Adieu, notre petite table”
from Manon
Music by Jules Massenet
Libretto by Henri Meilhac and Philippe Gille
Allons! Il le faut pour lui-même…
Mon pauvre chevalier!
Oui, c'est lui que j'aime!
Et pourtant, j'hésite aujourd'hui.
Non, non!... Je ne suis plus digne de lui!
J'entends cette voix qui m'entraîne
contre ma volonté:
Manon, Manon, tu seras reine...
Reine... par la beauté!
Come now, I must do it, for his sake...
My poor Chevalier!
Yes, he's the one I love!
And yet today I'm still hesitating.
No, no!... I'm no longer worthy of him!
I keep hearing this voice that
attracts me against my will:
Manon, Manon, you will be queen...
A queen... by your beauty!
Je ne suis que faiblesse et que fragilité...
Ah! malgré moi je sens couler mes larmes...
Devant ces rêves effacés,
l'avenir aura-t-il les charmes
de ces beaux jours déjà passés?
I am nothing but weakness and frailty...
Ah! in spite of myself I feel my tears flowing.
After these dreams have been erased,
will the future have the charms
of these beautiful days that have already passed?
Adieu, notre petite table,
qui nous réunit si souvent!
Adieu, adieu, notre petite table,
si grande pour nous cependant!
On tient, c'est inimaginable...
Si peu de place... en se serrant...
Adieu, notre petite table!
Un même verre était le nôtre,
chacun de nous, quand il buvait
y cherchait les lèvres de l'autre …
Ah! pauvre ami, comme il m'aimait!
Adieu, notre petite table, adieu!
Farewell, our little table,
which brought us together so often!
Farewell, farewell, our little table,
which for just us two seemed so large!
It's unbelievable,
but we take up so little space...
especially when we're embracing.
Farewell, our little table!
We used the same glass,
the two of us, and when each of us drank,
we tried to find the other's lips.
My poor friend, how he loved me!
Farewell, our little table, farewell!
“Ecco, respiro appena…
Io son l’umile ancella”
from Adriana Lecouvreur
Music by Francesco Cilea
Libretto by Arturo Colautti
Ecco, respiro appena,
Io son l'umile ancella
del genio creator;
Ei m'offre la favella
Io la diffondo ai cor
Del verso io son l'accento,
l'eco del dramma uman
il fragile strumento
vassallo della man.
Mite, gioconda, atroce,
Mi chiamo Fedeltà;
Un soffio è la mia voce,
che al novo di morrà
Look: I’m scarcely breathing.
I’m but the humble servant
of the brilliant creator;
He offers me the words
that I impart to the heart…
I’m the verse’s music,
the echo of the human drama,
the fragile instrument,
the lowly hand-maiden…
Timid, joyous, terrible,
I’m called Faithfulness.
My voice is just a whisper,
which, with the new day, will die.
The Diva
Music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa
My name’s Renée. I’m a soprano.
But if you think that’s all I do, you got it wrong.
I’ve been on Broadway.
Sing jazz and standards.
So, opera’s never only been my favorite song.
I like a challenge, I like the new. I like to
stretch my wings to see just what they’ll do.
My different voices create more choices
and, like a bumble bee, I pollenate a few.
But there is one thing I should mention.
A kind of secret to confess.
Without an ounce of condescension,
you ought to know…
…when in a show:
I am the diva.
I am the fun.
I am the one
the tenor comes to on the run.
I am the diva.
I am what’s it.
That doesn’t mean
I’ll never share the stage a bit.
Divas are formal.
Divas are normal.
I’m here to tell you both are true.
I am the diva with a family
and a husband and a job.
I am practically you!
So, once again, one thing to mention,
a very salient point to note:
The moment I lose the attention
it’s fair to tell…
I’ll raise some hell!
I am the diva, smooth with a style
Starred in a play on Broadway
for a little while.
Call me the diva, here for the win.
Who else could marshal
an impartial Marschallin?
Divas are mothers, divas are sisters,
divas are more than just on stage.
I am the diva with a mortgage
and a budget and a bra…
…and an undetermined age.
How many people have a job where you’re
reviewed in the paper the next day.
How many people are compared
to centuries of sopranos,
most of whom have never been heard?
I am the diva, eyes on the prize.
And if I get it right, I get a few more tries.
I am the diva, flying above.
Donning a wing so I can sing the song of love.
And if you hear it, you can repeat it,
doing exactly what I do.
Being a diva in this moment
when the world is going mad.
Diva, even when you’d rather
feel a little sad.
Diva like your mother, brother,
sister, neighbor, dad, it’s true!
Let’s be a diva:
Me and you!
