Richard Rodney Bennett: Tenebrae (The Lied and Art Song Texts Page: Texts and Translations to Lieder, mélodies, canzoni, and other classical vocal music)


Adieu, farewell earth's blisse,
This world uncertain is,
Fond are lifes lustfull joyes,
Death proves them all but toyes.
None from his darts can flye,
I am sick I must die--
      Lord have mercy on us.

Rich men, trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot buy you health;
Physic himself must fade.
All things to end are made.
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die--
      Lord have mercy on us.

Beauty is but a flower,
Which wrinkles will devour,
Brightness falls from the air,
Queens have died young and fair,
Dust hath closed Helen's eye.
I am sick, I must die--
      Lord have mercy on us.

Strength stoopes unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave
Swords [cannot]¹ fight with fate
Earth still holds ope her gate;
Come, come! the bells do cry;
I am sick, I must die--
      Lord have mercy on us.

[Wit with his wantonness
Tasteth death's bitterness
Hell's executioner
Hath no ears for to hear
What vain art can reply;
I am sick, I must die--
      Lord have mercy on us.]²

Haste therefore each degree,
To welcome destiny:
Heav'n is our heritage,
Earth but a player's stage,
Mount we unto the sky.
I am sick, I must die--
      Lord have mercy on us.

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¹ Bennett: "may not"
² omitted by Bennett

Input by Ahmed E. Ismail

2. Like to the falling of a star

Language: English

Authorship

Henry King (1592-1669)

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Like to the falling of a star,
Or [as the flights]¹ of eagles are;
Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue,
Or silver drops of morning dew;
Or like a wind that chafes the flood,
Or bubbles which on water stood:
Even such is man, whose borrowed [light]²
Is straight call'd in, and paid to night.
  The wind blows out, the bubble dies;
  The spring entombed in autumn lies.
  The dew dries up, the star is shot;
  The flight is past and man forgot.

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Note: author given as "Harry King" in the Bennett score.
¹ Bennett: "like the flight"
² Bennett: "plight"

3. Hey nonny no!

Language: English

Authorship

Anonymous/Unidentified Artist


Hey nonny no!
Men are fools that wish to die.
Is't not fine to dance and sing
When the bells of death do ring?
Is't not fine to swim in wine,
And turn upon the toe
And sing Hey nonny no,
while the winds blow
and the seas flow?
Hey nonny no!
Hey nonny no!

4. Written on the eve of execution

Language: English

Authorship

Chidiock Tichbourne (1558?-1586)

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 My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
 My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
 My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
 And all my good is but vain hope of gain;
 My life is fled, and yet I saw no sun;
 And now I live, and now my life is done.

 My tale was heard, and yet it was not told;
 My fruit is fallen and yet my leaves are green;
 My youth is spent and yet I am not old;
 I saw the world and yet I was not seen;
 My thread is cut, and yet it was not spun;
 And now I live, and now my life is done.

 I sought my death and found it in the womb,
 I lookt for life and saw it was a shade,
 I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb,
 And now I die and now I was but made;
 My glass is full, and now my glass is run;
 And now I live, and yet my life is done.

5. Death be not proud

Language: English

Authorship

John Donne (1572-1631)

Holy Sonnets

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):

ITA

Italian


Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for thou art not soe,
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor [yet canst thou]¹ kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do goe,
Rest of their bones, and souls deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sickness dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well 
And better than thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

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¹ Bennett: "nor canst thou yet"