Stenhammar, Ithaka - Peter Mattei
Вставка
- Опубліковано 10 вер 2024
- Stenhammar, Wilhelm (1871-1927): Ithaka, Op 21. Peter Mattei (baritone), Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra, Manfred Honeck (conductor), 2001.
Jag drömt som främling på en främmad strand
Gud vet hur många år.
Nu vill jag hem. Jag redan lagt från land,
i silkesseglet stormen slår.
Framåt mot obefarna vattendrag
förbi Herakles' stoder
mot fjärran ö i blå arkipelag
jag vridit skeppets roder.
Där ligger solskenslyst i havets mitt
mitt Ithaka, den ö,
där fruktträdsvalven evigt lysa vitt
och dyningarna dö
i säven som en mattad aftonsång
från kärleksdomnad lyra,
dit, vore färden än så hård och lång,
vill jag min farkost styra.
Där stå det vita, marmorsvala hus,
i vilket jag vill bo.
Där silverpoppeln har det högtidssus,
som hägnar med sin ro.
Ack, världens vägar, jag är trött på dem!
Jag hör det dunkla kravet
mot längtans Ithaka, mitt hjärtats hem,
min vita ö i havet.
På hemfärd stadd jag lyssnar så förstrött
på livets lust och larm
som på en man, som av en slump mig mött
och håller fast min arm.
I bröder, än jag går som en bland er,
men ren mot slag som smekning
med avskedsstundens gåtfullhet jag ler.
Jag har gjort upp min räkning.
Blott starkare förnimmer jag var dag
den manande musik,
som eko är av kvällens böljeslag
emot min hemös vik.
Jag drömmer lutad över skeppets toft.
I skum delfiner skalkas,
än syns ej ön, men luftens mandeldoft
förtäljer, att jag nalkas.
Så vill jag bära allt, vad än en man
kan bära utav ve,
ty ett jag vet, ej evigt räcka kan
mitt hjärtas odyssé.
Min sorgs, min glädjes skiljemynt--allt glöms
som mull i mull begravet,
när skeppet når sitt Ithaka, sin dröms
vårvita ö i havet.
Text by Oscar Levertin.
English Translation
Ithaca
I dreamed as a stranger on a foreign shore
God knows how many years.
Now I want to go home. I have already put to sea.
The gale beats against the silken sail.
Forward towards uncharted waters
past the pillars of Hercules
towards a distant island in a blue archipelago
I have turned the ship’s rudder.
There, sunlit in the midst of the sea, lies
my Ithaca, the island,
where the vault of the fruit trees always shines white
and the breakers die
in the reeds like a muted evening song
from a lyre lulled by love,
thither, be the journey ever so hard and long,
I will steer my craft.
There stands the cool white marble house,
in which I want to live.
There the silver poplar has that solemn rustling
that protects with its calm.
Oh, the ways of the world, I am tired of them!
I hear the muted summons
to the longed-for Ithaca, my heart’s home,
my white island in the sea.
On the homeward journey I listen distractedly
to life’s desires and noise
as to a man who met me by chance
and holds me fast by the arm.
Brothers, though I walk among you,
already at blows, like caresses
with the mysteriousness of the moment of farewell,
I laugh.
I have made my reckoning
Ever more strongly do I hear every day
the enticing music,
like an echo of the evening waves breaking
on the shore of the bay of my island home!
I dream as I lean over the ship’s prow.
Dolphins sport in the foam.
The island is not yet in sight, but the scent of
almonds in the air
tells me that I am approaching nearer.
So I will bear all that which a man
can bear of woe,
for one thing I know; it cannot last for ever,
my heart’s odyssey.
The small change of my sorrow and my joy is already
forgotten,
like earth buried in earth,
when the ship reaches its Ithaca, my dream’s
white springtime island in the sea.
Thank you formthis beautiful translation! Ariane
Larus Arge
Thank you for your beautiful translation. Sure beats Google!
Grazie for the translation
This is one of my very favorite pieces to sing. It's nice to have a better idea of what I have been singing all these years. This is the only good translation I've seen online. Thanks for your excellent efforts!
... wunderbarer Bariton! Stenhammar besticht besonders in seinen kürzeren Orhesterwerken....
Never heard this before, and I am Swedish! Stenhammar is magnificent as always but this is new fo me and very interesting. Peter Mattei sings beautifully and well as always.
Meraviglioso! Peter Mattei grande, come sempre
Brilliant performance
Wonderful sense of the sea in the music! Of course, Peter Mattei delivers a devastating rendering of longing for home. Thank you for posting this.
Congratulations!!
Fine!!!! As always!!!!!!!
Fantastic performance of a wonderful piece. There's an English translation (plus French and German!) downloadable for free from Chandos Records' website - go to chandos.net and look for 'Scandinavian Songs', CHAN 10249. Ithaka is track 2.
Jeremy, you are fantastic too! That booklet is just what I needed! Ithaka and Florez och Blanzeflor, what I was looking for unsuccessfully. And you made me a generous present (and I think not only for me)) Thank you very very very much!!! :-)
This is gorgeous. Alas, my Swedish is too elementary to read the translation, and I cannot dig it out of the Chandos site. Can anyone help? I want to play it for a class.
did you find the translation? Look at comment by Larus Argwntatus, it includes the translation to English...
Esiste una traduzione inglese?
Thank larus for this - @larusargentatus4258
@larusargentatus4258
9 years ago
English Translation
Ithaca
I dreamed as a stranger on a foreign shore
God knows how many years.
Now I want to go home. I have already put to sea.
The gale beats against the silken sail.
Forward towards uncharted waters
past the pillars of Hercules
towards a distant island in a blue archipelago
I have turned the ship’s rudder.
There, sunlit in the midst of the sea, lies
my Ithaca, the island,
where the vault of the fruit trees always shines white
and the breakers die
in the reeds like a muted evening song
from a lyre lulled by love,
thither, be the journey ever so hard and long,
I will steer my craft.
There stands the cool white marble house,
in which I want to live.
There the silver poplar has that solemn rustling
that protects with its calm.
Oh, the ways of the world, I am tired of them!
I hear the muted summons
to the longed-for Ithaca, my heart’s home,
my white island in the sea.
On the homeward journey I listen distractedly
to life’s desires and noise
as to a man who met me by chance
and holds me fast by the arm.
Brothers, though I walk among you,
already at blows, like caresses
with the mysteriousness of the moment of farewell,
I laugh.
I have made my reckoning
Ever more strongly do I hear every day
the enticing music,
like an echo of the evening waves breaking
on the shore of the bay of my island home!
I dream as I lean over the ship’s prow.
Dolphins sport in the foam.
The island is not yet in sight, but the scent of
almonds in the air
tells me that I am approaching nearer.
So I will bear all that which a man
can bear of woe,
for one thing I know; it cannot last for ever,
my heart’s odyssey.
The small change of my sorrow and my joy is already
forgotten,
like earth buried in earth,
when the ship reaches its Ithaca, my dream’s
white springtime island in the sea.
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