Nymphes des bois (Josquin Des Prez)
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It has been suggested that this page or section be merged with La déploration de la mort de Johannes Ockeghem (Josquin Des Prez). (Discuss) |
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Music files
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= PDF FILE 
= MIDI FILE 
= POSTSCRIPT FILE Music Program = NOTATION FILE
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= EXTERNAL PDF FILE 
= EXTERNAL MIDI FILE 
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= HELP- CPDL #2012: .
- Editor: François-Xavier Chauchat (added 2001-01-25). Score information: kbytes Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes: Files available at 'http://arenai.free.fr' in Database section
General Information
Title: Nymphes des bois
Alias: La déploration de la mort de Johannes Ockeghem
Composer: Josquin Des Prez
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Chansons
Languages: French, Latin
Instruments: a cappella.
Published:
Description: Nymphes des bois, La Deploration de la Mort de Johannes Ockeghem, Lament on the death of Ockeghem by Josquin des Prez. Ockeghem died 1497.
External websites: The Academy of Dijon provides historical background and an analysis (visual and musical) of this piece of music: with audio-examples... in French.
Original text and translations
French text
by Jehan Molinet (with Latin from the Requiem-Mass)
Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine
et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Nymphes des bois, deesses des fontaines,
Chantres expres de toutes nations,
Changes vos voix fors claires et haultaines
En cris trenchans et lamentations,
Car Atropos tres terrible satrappe
Votre Ockeghem atrappe en sa trappe,
Vray tresorier de musiqe et chef doeuvre,
Doct elegant de corps et non point trappe,
Grant domaige est que la terre le couvre.
Acoultres vous dhabis de doeul,
Josquin Piersson Brumel Comper,
Et ploures grosses larmes doeul,
Perdu aves votre bon pere.
Requiescant in pace.
Amen.
Version with variant spellings
Changez vos voix fort claires et hautaines
En cris tranchants et lamentations
Car Atropos tres terrible satrappe,
Votre Ockeghem atrappe en sa trappe,
Vrai tresorier de musiqu’et chef d’ œuvre,
Doct, elegant de corps et non point trappe.
Grand dommag’est que la terre le couvre.
Accoutrez vous d’habits de deuil,
Josquin, Piersson, Brumel, Compère,
Et pleurez grosses larmes d’œil.
Perdu avez votre bon pere.
Requiescant in pace.
Amen.
(submitted by Kristin Denzer)
English translation
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.
Wood-nymphs, goddesses of the fountains,
Skilled singers of every nation,
Turn your voices, so clear and lofty,
To piercing cries and lamentation
Because Atropos*, terrible satrap,
Has caught your Ockeghem in her trap,
The true treasurer of music and master,
Learned, handsome and by no means stout.
It is a source of great sorrow that the earth must cover him.
Put on the clothes of mourning,
Josquin, Pierre de la Rue, Brumel, Compère,
And weep great tears from your eyes,
For you have lost your good father.
May they rest in peace.
Amen.
- Atropos: the Fate whose role it was to cut the thread of human life with her shears.
German translation
Herr, schenke ihnen die ewige Ruhe;
Und das ewige Licht leuchte ihnen.
Ihr Nymphen des Waldes, Ihr Göttinnen der Quellen,
Ihr grossen Sänger aller Nationen,
Lasst statt eurer hellen, schönen Stimmen
Durchdringende Schreie und Klagen ertönen.
Denn Atropos, die schreckliche Herrscherin,
Hat euren Ockeghem in ihrer Falle gefangen,
Den wahren Schatzmeister der Musik, ein Meisterwerk,
Gelehrt, elegant von Statur, nicht klein und gedrungen.
Es ist ein grosses Unglück, dass ihn nun Erde deckt.
Legt eure Trauerkleider an,
Josquin, Piersson, Brumel, Compère,
Und weint viele Tränen:
Ihr habt euren lieben Vater verloren.
Möge er in Frieden ruhen.
Amen.
(submitted by Kristin Denzer)
Dutch translation
Gij, bosnimfen en bronnimfen
meesterzangers aller landen,
maakt uw hoge en heldere stemmen
tot schrille schreeuwen en jammerklachten,
Want Atropos, de schrikwekkende satraap,
heeft uw Ockeghem gevangen in zijn val,
de ware schatbewaarder der muziek, de maestro,
de vakman, elegant van postuur, nooit bot.
Wat een slag, dat aarde hem nu dekt.
Hult u in u rouwgewaden,
Josquin, Piersson (Pierre de la Rue?) Brumel, Compère,
en laat uw tranen stromen:
Verloren hebt gij uw lieve vader.
- Hij ruste in vrede. Amen
Geen hen eeuwig rust, Heer,
en moge eeuwig licht over hen schijnen;
- Hij ruste in vrede. Amen.
(submitted by Dick Wursten)
