L'Astratto - Barbara Strozzi - Sophie Michaux, Benjamin Katz, Paul Morton

L'Astratto - Barbara Strozzi (1618-1677)

Sophie Michaux, Mezzo-soprano
Benjamin Katz, Harpsichord
Paul Holmes Morton, Theorbo

Recorded live on Feb, 7th 2020
at the Cathedral Church of St Paul, Boston, MA.

Voglio, sì, vò cantar: forse cantando
Trovar pace potessi al mio tormento;
Hà d'opprimere il duol forza il concento.
Sì, sì, pensiero, aspetta,
A sonar comintiamo,
E a nostro senso una canzon troviamo.

"Hebbi il core legato un dìD'un bel crin..."
La stracerei: subito ch'apro un foglio
Sento che mi raccorda il mio cordoglio.

"Fuggia la notte e sol spiegava intorno..."
Eh, si confondon qui la nott' e'l giorno.

"Volate, o Furie,
E conducete
Un miserabile
Al foco eterno..."
Ma che fo nell'inferno?

"Al tuo ciel, vago desio,Spiega l'ale e vanne..."
A fè, che quel che ti compose
Poco sapea dell'amoroso strale:
Desiderio d'amante in ciel non sale.

"Goderò sotto la luna..."
Hor questa sì ch'è peggio!
Sa il destin degl'amanti, e vuol fortuna.

Misero, i guai m'han da me stesso astratto,
E cercando un soggetto
Per volerlo dir sol cento n'ho detto.

Chi nel carcere d'un crineI desiri ha prigionieri,
Per sue crude aspre ruine
Ne men suoi sono i pensieri.

Chi ad un vago alto splendore
Diè fedel la libertà,
Schiavo alfin tutto d'amore,
Ne men sua la mente havrà.

Quind'io, misero e stolto,
Non volendo cantar cantato ho molto.

Giuseppe Artale

Distracted Lover

I want, yes, I want to sing: maybe in singing
I can find relief from my torment;
music has the power to overcome suffering.
Yes, yes, wait, I'm thinking,
Let's start playingand find a song that suits our mood.

"If one day my heart were boundby beautiful tresses..."I
’d rip it up! As soon as I look at a page
of music I'm reminded of my torment.

"The night fled and the sun spread its light..."
Oh sure, here we go confusing day and night!

"Fly , o Furies,
and carrythis miserable creatureto the eternal fire."
But what am I doing in Hell?

"To your heaven, blithe yearning,
spread your wings and go..."
Clearly, the person who wrote you
didn't know much about love.
A lover's desires don't rise to Heaven.

"I'll rejoice under the moon..."
This is even worse!
He knows what happens to lovers and expects good fortune.
O misery! My woes have estranged me
from myself, and seeking a subject to express it
I've proposed a hundred.

For one whose hopes are bound
by beautiful tresses,
to his cruel bitter ruin,
not even his thoughts are his own.

One who entrusts his liberty
to a fair proud beauty,
in the end is completely enslaved by love,
and he won't even have his mind.

Thus I, miserable and foolish,not wanting to sing have sung much.

translation © Richard Kolb, Cor Donato Editions.
Used with permission