Francesca Caccini | Lasciatemi qui solo

SONNAMBULA and Detroit Institute of Arts
Recorded in March 2022
Elizabeth Weinfield, viola da gamba/direction
Jude Ziliak, violin
Toma Iliev, violin
Amy Domingues, viola da gamba
James Kennerley, harpsichord
with Nola Richardson, soprano
This performance is presented in conjunction with the Detroit Institute of Arts exhibition By Her Hand: Artemisia Gentileschi and Women Artists in Italy, 1500-1800, and was made possible through a generous grant from the Samuel H. Kress Foundation.
Francesca Caccini (1587-1640): "Lasciatemi qui solo"
Lasciatemi qui solo
Torante augelli al nido
Mentre l’anim’e ‘l duolo
Spiro su questo lido
Altri meco non voglio
Ch’un freddo scoglio
E ‘l moi fatal martire
Lasciatemi moirire
Leave me here alone,
Return, birds, to your nests,
While my soul, and my pain
I give up on these shores.
I want no one else with me
Other than a cold rock,
And my fated death.
Leave me to die
Dolcissime sirene
Che’n si pietoso canto
Raddolcite mie pene
Fate soave il pianto
Movet’ il nuoto altronde
Togliete all’onde
I crudi sdegni, e l’ire
Lasciatemi morire
Sweetest sirens
Who with such merciful song
Sweeten my sufferings and
Soften my weeping
Go elsewhere to swim
Dampen the waves’
Cruel scorn, and their ire
Leave me to die.
Placidissimi venti
Torante al vostro speco
Sol miei duri lamenti
Chieggo che restin meco
Vostri sospir non chiamo
Solingo bramo
I miei dolor finire
Lasciatemi morire
Calmest winds
Return to your cave
I ask that only my harsh laments
Remain with me
I do not call upon your sighs
Alone I wish
To end my sufferings
Leave me alone to die.
Fekicissimi amanti
Torante al bel diletto
Fere eccels’o notanti
Fuggite il mesto aspetto
Sol dolcezza di morte
Apra le porte
All’ ultimo Languire
Lasciatemi morire
Happiest lovers
Return to your beautiful pleasures
Wild beasts, whether birds or fish
Flee from this sad countenance
Only the sweetness of death
Should open its doors
To this final languishing
Leave me to die.
Avarissimi lumi
Che su ‘l morir versate
Amarissimi fiumi
Tard’e vostra pietate
Gia mi sento mancare
O luci avar’e
Tarde al mio conforto
Gia sono esangu’e smorto
Most avaricious eyes
That on point of death spill
The bitterest rivers
Your pity comes too late
Already I feel myself fail
Oh eyes, stinging
And slow to comfort me
I am already bloodless and lifeless.
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