Cruda Amarilli - Ma grideran (Giovanni Battista de Bellis)

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  • (Posted 2021-04-05)  CPDL #63919:         
Editor: Wim Looyestijn (submitted 2021-04-05).   Score information: A4, 11 pages, 683 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: Madrigal in two parts.

General Information

Title: Cruda Amarilli - Ma grideran
Composer: Giovanni Battista de Bellis
Lyricist: Giovanni Battista Guarini
Number of voices: 5vv   Voicing: SSATB
Genre: SecularMadrigal

Language: Italian
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1608 Primo libro de madrigali a cinque voci, Naples

External websites:

Original text and translations

Italian.png Italian text

Cruda Amarilli, che col nom' ancora,
d'amar, ahi lasso, amaramente insegni.
Amarilli, del candido ligustro
più candida e più bella,
ma de l'aspido sordo e più fera e più fugace,
poiché col dir t'offendo,
io mi morrò tacendo.

Ma grideran per me le piagg' e i monti,
per me piangendo i fonti,
e mormorando i venti,
diranno i miei lamenti.

Parlerà nel mio volto
la pietate e'l dolore,
e se fia muta ogn' altra cosa al fine
parlerà il mio morire,
e ti dirà la morte il mio martire.

Dutch.png Dutch translation

Wrede Amaryllis, die met jouw naam
helaas, bitter liefhebben onderwijst u;
Amaryllis, meer dan de witte liguster
puur en mooier,
maar dover dan de dove roofblei,
en feller en ongrijpbaarder;
omdat ik je beledig door te spreken,
Ik zal in stilte sterven.

Maar voor mij zullen de heuvels en de bergen uitroepen
De bronnen, huilend om mij,
en de winden, ruisend, zullen
mijn klaagzangen vertellen;

In mijn gezicht zal spreken
mededogen en verdriet;
en als al het andere uiteindelijk stil is,
zal mijn dood spreken,
en aan jou zal mijn dood mijn lijden vertellen.

English.png English translation

Cruel Amaryllis, who with your name
to love, alas, bitterly you teach;
Amaryllis, more than the white privet
pure, and more beautiful,
but deafer than the deaf asp,
and fiercer and more elusive;
since in speaking I offend you,
I shall die in silence.

Yet for me will cry out the hills and the mountains
Weeping for me, the springs,
and murmuring, the winds,
will tell my laments;

In my face will speak
compassion and sorrow;
and if every other thing is silent, in the end,
will speak my dying,
and to you my death will tell of my suffering.