Ad una fresca riva (Luca Marenzio)

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  • (Posted 2020-08-17)  CPDL #60177:        (LilyPond)
Editor: Allen Garvin (submitted 2020-08-17).   Score information: Letter, 2 pages, 63 kB   Copyright: CC BY NC
Edition notes:
  • (Posted 2017-06-03)  CPDL #44852:        (Finale 2012)
Editor: André Vierendeels (submitted 2017-06-03).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 52 kB   Copyright: CPDL
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  • (Posted 2005-08-30)  CPDL #09240:         
Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2005-08-30).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 17 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: NoteWorthy Composer file may be viewed and printed with NoteWorthy Composer Viewer.
  • (Posted 2003-11-06)  CPDL #05960:         
Editor: Bettina Blokland (submitted 2003-11-06).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 37 kB   Copyright: Personal
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  • (Posted 2002-08-12)  CPDL #03905:  Network.png
Editor: Marco Gallo (submitted 2002-08-12).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 23 kB   Copyright: Free Art License
Edition notes: listed alphabetically by composer.

General Information

Title: Ad una fresca riva
Composer: Luca Marenzio

Number of voices: 3vv   Voicing: SSA
Genre: SecularMadrigal

Language: Italian
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1585 in Il terzo libro delle villanelle a tre voci, no. 19

External websites:

Original text and translations

Italian.png Italian text

Ad una fresca riva
Guidommi Amor dove era la mia Diva,
Che con gli occhi, co'l crin e’l visadorno
Fea nascer fiore e vaghe erbett'intorno.
Se a me gli occhi volgea
Invidia agli altri amanti ella porgea,
Che co' sguardi, con risi e con parole
Era a me sol dolcissimo il mio sole.
Se apria le chiome bionde
Garrian gli augelli e si fermavan la onde,
E se gioia al mio cor era il lor canto
A ogni altro amante era cagion di pianto.

English.png English translation

At a fresh shore
Led me Love, where my Goddess was,
Who with eyes, and hair and her beautiful face
Let around her flowers and grass grow.
If she turned her eyes to me
She gave envy to other lovers,
She who, with looks, smiles and words
Was my sweetest sun.
If she opened her blond hair
The birds sang, and the waves stopped,
And if joy to me was their singing
To every other lover was a reason to cry.