Italia mia (Philippe Verdelot)

Music files

L E G E N D

Disclaimer

How to download

ICON	SOURCE
	Pdf
	Midi
	MusicXML
	Noteworthy
	File details
	Help

• (Posted 2015-01-08)  CPDL #34196:       

Editor: Allen Garvin (submitted 2015-01-08).   Score information: Letter, 5 pages, 104 kB   Copyright: CC BY NC

Edition notes: Parts and source available at IMSLP.

• (Posted 2006-08-10)  CPDL #12261:         

Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2006-08-10).   Score information: Letter, 7 pages, 102 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: NoteWorthy Composer file may be viewed and printed with NoteWorthy Composer Viewer.

• (Posted 1999-08-23)  CPDL #00428:         

Editor: Adam P. Cole (submitted 1999-08-23).   Score information: Letter, 10 pages, 144 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: NoteWorthy Composer file may be viewed and printed with NoteWorthy Composer Viewer.

General Information

Title: Italia mia
Composer: Philippe Verdelot
Lyricist: Francesco Petrarca

Number of voices: 5vv   Voicing: SATTB
Genre: Secular, Madrigal

Language: Italian
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1538 in De i madrigali a cinque voci libro secondo (Philippe Verdelot), no. 13
    2nd published: 1538 in Madrigali a cinque voci (Philippe Verdelot), Edition 1, no. 3
Description: 

Original text and translations

Italian text Italia mia, ben ch’el parlar Sia indarno a le piaghe mortali Che nel’ bel corpo tuo spesse veggio Piacem’ almen’ ch’ e’ mia sospir’ sien quali Sper’ il Tever’ et l’Arno E’l Pove doglioso et grave hor seggio. Rector’ del ciel’, io cheggio Che la pieta che ti conduce in terra Ti volgha al tuo dilect’ almo paese: Vedi, Signor’ cortese, Di che levi cagion che crudel guerra I cor’, ch’ indur’ et serra Marte superb’ et fero Apri tu, padr’ e’ntenerisci et snoda; Ivi fa ch’el tuo vero Qual’ io mi sia per la mia lingua s’oda. Canzoniere 128 (v. 1)

English translation My Italy, though words cannot heal the mortal wounds so dense, I see on your lovely flesh, at least I pray that my sighs might bring some hope to the Tiber and the Arno, and the Po, that sees me now sad and grave. Ruler of Heaven, I hope that the pity that brought You to earth, will turn you towards your soul-delighting land. Lord of courtesy, see such cruel wars for such slight causes: and hearts, hardened and closed by proud, fierce Mars, and open them, Father, soften them, set them free: and, whatever I may be, let your Truth be heard in my speech. Translation by Anthony S. Kline ©