Jordi Savall Hespèrion XXI La Capella Reial de Catalunya and special guests Texts and Translations

TEXTS AND TRANSLATIONS

TEXTS AND TRANSLATIONS

MARCABRU

Pax! In nomine Domini!

Peace! In the name of the Lord!

(Crusader song)

Fetz Marcabrus los vers e·l so.
Aujatz que di:
cum nos a fait, per sa doussor,
lo seingnorius celestiaus
probet de nos un lavador,
c’anc, fors outramar, no·n fo taus,
en de lai deves Josaphas;
e d’aqest de sai vos conort.

Lavar de ser e de maiti
nos deuriam, segon razo:
ie·us o afi.
Chascus a del lavar legor:
domentre q’el es sas e saus,
deuria anar al lavador,
que·ns es verais medicinaus;
que s’abans anam a la mort,
d’aut desus aurem alberc bas.

Mas escarsedatz e no-fes
part joven de son compaigno.
A! cals dols es
que tuich volon lai li plusor,
don lo gazains es enfernaus!
S’anz non correm al lavador
c’aiam la bocha ni·ls huoills claus,
non i a un d’orguoill tant gras
c’al morir non trob contrafort.

Pax! In nomine Domini!

Marcabru wrote the words and the tune.
Listen to what he says:
In his great goodness
the heavenly king, our Lord,
has made for us a cleansing-place
the like of which was never seen,
save far away in the vale of Josaphat;
but it is to this one that I summon you now.

Let’s wash ourselves both morning and night,
for so we should, there’s no denying,
and this I would have you know.
Let each one wash while he has the chance
while he is sound of life and limb;
and this I therefore recommend,
as the very remedy to our ills.
If we die before we are cleansed
we shall not enter heaven, but stay here below.

But meanness of spirit and faithlessness
part young men from their comrades.
Alas, how sad it is to see
so many rush towards
the place where nought but hell awaits them!
If we do not hurry to cleanse ourselves
before our mouths and eyes are shut,
there is none of us, for all our lofty pride,
who shall not be conquered by death.

Peace! In the name of the Lord!

JOSQUIN DES PRÉS

“Agnus Dei” and “Da pacem Domine” from Missa Da Pacem

Agnus Dei
qui tollis peccata mundi,
miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei
qui tollis peccata mundi,
dona nobis pacem.

Da Pacem Domine
in diebus nostris
quia non est alius
qui pugnet pro nobis
nisi tu Deus noster.

Lamb of God,
who takes away the sins of the world,
have mercy on us.
Lamb of God,
who takes away the sins of the world,
grant us peace.

Lord, grant us peace in our day,
for we have no other
champion to fight on our behalf
but You, our God.

TRADICIONAL SEFARDÍ

El pan de la aflicción (Oración aramea de la Hagadá de Pascua judía [en ladino])

SEPHARDIC TRADITION

The bread of affliction (The Haggadah, an Aramaic prayer for the Passover [in Ladino])

Este es el pan de la aflicción
que comieron nuestros padres en tierra de Ayifto (Egipto).
Todo el que tiene hambre venga y coma,
y todo el que tiene de menester venga
y pascue.
Este año aquí,
a el año el vinien en tierra de Yisraél
Este año aquí siervos,
a el año el vinien en tierra de Yisraél.

This is the bread of affliction
which our forefathers ate in the land of Egypt.
All who are hungry, come and eat.
All who are needy, come and share our Passover.
Now we are here,
the redeemed children of Israel.
Next year, all the People of Israel shall be redeemed.
This year we are slaves, next year we shall be free.

ALONSO

La tricotea Samartín la vea (Cancionero Musical de Palacio, No. 247) (Canzon alla villota)

Tricotea, Time for St Martin

La tricotea
Samartín la vea;
abres un poc
al agua y señalea.
La bota sembra tuleta,
la señal d’un chapiré.
Ge que te gus per mundo spesa.

La botilla plena,
dama, qui mayna,
cerrali la vena.
Orli, çerli, trum madama,
çerliçer, cerrarli ben,
votr’ami contrari ben.
Niqui, niquidon,
formagidón, formagidón.
Yo soy monarchea
de grande nobrea.
Dama, por amor,
dama, bel se mea;
dama, yo la vea.

Tricotea,
Time for St Martin to have his day!
Open it a bit
And the water flows out.
The wineskin looks dried up,
damm it!
Everyone likes a plump one.

A skin that’s full,
my lady, one that spurts …
Orli, cerli, trun, my lady,
Shut it up tight,
your friend feels good.
Niqui, niquidón,
Formagidón, formagidón.
I am a king
of great nobility.
Lady, for love’s sake,
fair lady, be mine;
lady, let me take a look.

Translator’s note: The original text is nonsense-verse in a mixture of languages and possible misspellings, although its bawdy implications and drinking-song style are clear enough.

TRADITIONAL

Another man done gone (Slave song)

Another man done gone … Boy
Another man done gone
Another man done gone
Another man done gone
Another man done gone … Boy

He killed another man … Boy
He killed another man
He killed another man
I don’t know where he’s gone
But boy that man’s done gone … Boy

I don’t know where he’s gone … Boy
I don’t know where he’s gone
I don’t know where he’s gone
I don’t know where he’s gone
But boy that man sho’ gone … Boy

HIERONIMUS PARABOSCO

Da pacem Domine (Ricercare XIV)

Lord, grant us peace

Da pacem Domine
in diebus nostris
quia non est alius
qui pugnet pro nobis
nisi tu Deus noster.

Lord, grant us peace in our day,
for we have no other
champion to fight on our behalf
but You, our God.

MATEO FLECHA, EL VIEJO

La Negrina: San Sabeya gugurumbé (Ensalada)

Florida estava la rosa,
que ô vento le volvía la folla.
Caminemos y veremos
a Dios hecho ya mortal.
¿Qué diremos que cantemos
al que nos libró del mal
y al alma de ser cativa?
¡Viva, viva, viva! ¡Viva!
Canta tú y responderé.
– San Sabeya,
gugurumbé, alangandanga,
gugurumbé, gurumbé …
Mantenga, señor Joan Branca,
mantega vossa meçè.
¿Sabé como é ya nacido,
ayá em Berem
un Niño muy garrido?
– Sa muy ben.

Vamo a ver su nacimento.
Dios, pesebre echado está.
– Sa contento. Vamo ayá.
¡Su!, vení, que ye verá.
Bonasa, bonasa,
su camisoncico rondaro;
çagarano, çagarano,
su sanico coyo roso,
sa hermoso, sa hermoso,
çucar miendro ye verá.-

Alangandanga,
gugurumbé, San Sabeya
gugurumbé, alangandanga,
gugurumbé, gurum-gurumbé …
Alelluia, alleluia, alleluia!

The rose was in bloom,
In the wind its leaves were stirring.
Let us go and see God
In mortal flesh appearing.
What shall we say, what shall we sing
To him who delivered us from evil,
To him who set our souls free?
Long may he live! Long may he live!
Sing first and I’ll answer.
“May Saint Sabeya,
Gugurumbé, alangandangaI
Gugurumbé, gugurumbé …
Protect you, Mr. John Branca,
And keep you always.
Did you know that in yonder
Bethlehem a fine baby boy
Has been born?”

That’s great news, let’s go there,
Let’s visit the crib where God lies.
Gladly, let’s go there.
Come, let’s go and see him.
He is gentle and good,
Lying there wrapped in his smock.
So beautiful and sweet
In his little red cot.
He is lovely, lovely,
Sweet as sugar, you’ll see,

Alangandanga,
Gugurumbé, Saint Sabeya
Gugurumbé, alangandanga,
Gugurumbé, gurum-gurumbé …
Alleluya, alleluya, alleluya!

TRADITIONAL

Los Negritos/Gurumbé (Son Jarocho)

Jesú María que m’espanta
como hacen los negros pa trabajá
moliendo caña sin descansá
ja, ja, ja, ja,
ja, ja, ja, ja.

Gurumbé, gurumbé,
gurumbé, gurumbé,
Que jaze nublao
y quere llové.

Gurumbé, gurumbé,
gurumbé, gurumbé.
Que teque maneque
chuchú mayambé.

Qué bonitos son los negros
bailando la contradanza,
bailando la contradanza
qué bonitos son los negros.

Con sus zapatitos nuevos
haciendo tanta mudanza,
o bailando bien sosiego
pegados panza con panza.

Jesú María que m’espanta …

Jesus and Mary, I can’t believe my eyes!
Look how hard the Negritos are working,
Tirelessly grinding the sugar cane.
Ha, ha, ha, ha,
Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Gurumbé, gurumbé,
Gurumbé, gurumbé,
The sky’s clouding over
And it’s going to rain.

Gurumbé, gurumbé,
Gurumbé, gurumbé.
What hustle and bustle!
Chuchú mayambé.

Don’t the negritos look fine
As they dance the quadrille,
As they dance the quadrille,
Don’t the negritos look fine!

With their new shoes,
And their complicated moves,
Or dancing a slow dance
Pressed close together.

Jesus and Mary, I can’t believe my eyes …

TRADITIONAL

Look over yonder (Slave song)

Look over yonder
Hot sun really turning over
And it wont go down, oh lord it won’t go down.

Look over yonder
Hot sun really turning over
And it won’t go down, oh my lord it won’t go down.

My little sister wrote me last December
Crying all the time, oh lord crying all the time.

ALFONSO FERRABOSCO

Hear me, O God (Four-note Pavan) (Text: Ben Jonson)

Hear me, O God,
a broken heart
is my best part;
Use still Thy rod,
that I may prove
there-in Thy love.

If Thou had’st not
been stern to me,
but let me free,
I had forgot
my self and Thee.

For sin’s so sweet
as minds ill bent
cannot repent
until they meet
their punishment.

Who more can crave?
That Thou hast done?
Thou gav’st a Son
to free a slave
first made of nought;
With all since bought.

Sin, Death and Hell
His glorius Name
quite overcame,
yet I rebel
and slight the same.

But I’ll come in
before my loss
me further toss
as sure to win
Under His Cross.

GASPAR FERNANDES

Tleycantimo choquiliya (Mestizo e Indio)

To you we sing, oh little flower (Mestizo and Indian)

Tleycantimo choquiliya
mis prasedes mi apission.
Tleycantimo choquiliya
mis prasedes mi apission.
Alleloya, alleloya, alleloya!

Coplas
Dejalto el llando creçida
mizalto el mulo y el guey.
Jimoiol lali mi rey
tleinmir tolinia mi lada.

No se porque de meis pena
tan lindo cara de rosa,
mor pihol lochin miño hermosa
nochalchiuh asojena.
Jesos de mi goraçon
no lloreis mi pantasia.

To you we sing, oh little flower
my joy, my heart’s desire.
To you we sing, oh little flower
my joy, my heart’s desire.
Halleluya, halleluya, halleluya!

Verse
Suddenly, his crying grew
as the mule and the ox looked on.
There my king lay moaning
my love.

Why you are sad I cannot tell,
oh lovely, rosy-faced child,
my beautiful boy,
my lily.
Oh, Jesus of my heart,
don’t cry, my fantasy.

TRADITIONAL

You gonna reap what you sow (Slave song)

You gonna reap what you sow
You gonna reap what you sow
Sowing on the mountain
Sowing in the valley
You gonna reap just what you sow.

Imma tell you brother, keep right on fighting
Tellin you sister, keep right on fighting
Fighting on the mountain
Fight harder in the valley
You gonna reap what you sow.

You gonna reap what you sow
You gonna reap what you sow
Sowing on the mountain
Sowing in the valley
You gonna reap what you sow.

SALOMONE ROSSI

Al naharot Bavel

By the Rivers of Babylon (Psalm 137: 1-6)

Al naharot Bavel,
sham yashavnu gam bachinu,
bezochrenu et Tsiyon.

Al aravim betochah
talinu kinoroteinu.
Ki sham she’elnunu shoveinu divrei shir,
vetolaleinu simcha:
Shiru lanu mishir Tsiyon.

Ech nashir et shir Adonai
al admat nechar?
Im eshkachech Yerushalayim,
tishkack yemini.
Tidbak l’shoni l’chiki im lo ezkerechi,
im lo a’aleh et Yerushalayim
al rosh simchati.
Zechor, Adonai, livnei Edom et yom Yerushalayim;
ha’omerim: aru, aru ad hay’sod ba!
Bat Bavel hashedudah,
ashrei sheyeshalem lach
et gemulech shegamalt lanu.
Ashrei sheyochez venipets
et olalayich et hasala.

By the rivers of Babylon
we sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.

There on the poplars
we hung our harps.
For there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said,
“Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

How can we sing the songs of the Lord
while in a foreign land?
If I forget you, Jerusalem,
may my right hand forget its skill.
May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem
my highest joy.
Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did
on the day Jerusalem fell.
“Tear it down,” they cried,
“tear it down to its foundations!”
Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
happy is the one who repays you
according to what you have done to us.
Happy is the one who seizes your infants
and dashes them against the rocks.

GASPAR FERNANDES

Xicochi conetzintlé

Sleep softly, little baby (Villancico; Nahuatl lyrics) (RBMSA, 202, Cathedral of Oaxaca, Mexico)

Xicochi, xicochi,
xicochi conetzintlé
ca omie hui, hui,
yoco angelosme:
Aleluya, aleluya.

Sleep softly, little baby,
softly, softly sleep.
Oh, hear the angels’ chorus
as over you their watch they keep.
Alleluya, alleluya!

Xochipitzahuatl	Come, all my friends (Anonymous Nahuatl)
Tiata compañero Ti paxalo te María Timiyehualotzin pa Tonantzin Santa María Guadalupe.	Come, all my friends, come, let us visit Mary, and gather around Tonantzin, the Virgin of Guadalupe.

JUAN GARCÍA DE ZÉSPEDES

Ay, que me abraso, ay (Guaracha)

TRADITIONAL

El Arrancazacate (Traditional son from Tixtla)

Oh, how I burn

¡Ay, que me abraso, ay!
divino dueño, ¡ay!
en la hermosura, ¡ay!
de tus ojuelos, ¡ay!

¡Ay, cómo llueven, ¡ay!
ciento luceros, ¡ay!
rayos de gloria, ¡ay!
rayos de fuego, ¡ay!

¡Ay, que la gloria, ¡ay!
del portaliño, ¡ay!
ya viste rayos, ¡ay!
si arroja hielos, ¡ay!

¡Ay, que su madre, ¡ay!
como en su espero, ¡ay!
mira en su luna, ¡ay!
sus crecimientos, ¡ay!

¡En la guaracha, ¡ay!
le festinemos, ¡ay!
mientras el niño, ¡ay!
se rinde al sueño, ¡ay!

¡Toquen y bailen, ¡ay!
porque tenemos, ¡ay!
fuego en la nieve, ¡ay!
nieve en el fuego, ¡ay!

Quereré, quereré
Quereré, quereré, quereré.

Cuatro naranjas corté
y las puse a madurar;
Si tu no las amancuernas,
yo sí las se amancornar.
Déjala que vaya,
que ya volverá;
Si amores la llevan,
celos la traerán.
Quereré, quereré.

¡Pero el chicote, ay!
a un mismo tiempo, ay!
llora y se ríe, ay!
qué dos extremos, ¡ay!

¡Paz a los hombres, ay!
dan de los cielos, ay!
a Dios las gracias, ay!
porque callemos, ¡ay!

Oh, how I burn,
oh, master divine,
in the beauty
of your eyes!

Oh, how they shed
a thousand stars
of glorious
fiery tears!

Oh, the glory
of Bethlehem, bright
with beams of sunlight
and shafts of ice!

Oh, how His mother,
in the glass as she gazes,
watches Him grow
in her mirror reflected!

As the child
yields to slumber,
with a guaracha
we’ll fête Him.

So play, then, and dance,
as now we admire
the fire in the snow
and the snow in the fire!

Quereré, quereré
Quereré, quereré, quereré.

I picked four oranges
And left them to ripen;
If you don’t tie them with a knot,
I’ll tie them up myself.
Let her go,
She’ll be back soon enough;
Love may take her away,
But jealousy will bring her back.
Quereré, quereré.

But oh, how the Little One,
laughing and crying,
unites two extremes
at the very same time!

Peace to all men
from heaven is given,
and thanks be to God,
for now we’ll be quiet!

Indodana

TRADITIONAL ISIXHOSA

The Son (Spiritual song and prayer)

Ngob’umthatile eh umtwana wakho
Uhlale nathi hololo helele

Indodana ka Nkulunkulu
Bayi’bethelela hololo helele

Oh Baba!, Baba, Baba Yehova!
Baba, hololo, helele

The Lord has taken his son who lived among us.
The son of the Lord God was crucified.
Oh Father Jehovah.

ANONYMOUS

Selections from the Codex Trujillo (Lima, ca. 1780)

Tonada El Congo: A la mar me llevan

Tonada El Congo: They are taking me away to the sea

For voices and bass, sung while dancing.
Codex “Trujillo del Perú”, No. 3 (E 178)
Baltazar [Baltasar] Martínez Compañón
Cathedral of Lima (Peru), ca. 1780
Real Biblioteca, Palacio Real (Madrid)

A la mar me llevan
sin tener razón,
dejando a mi madre
de mi corazón.

Ay que dice el congo
lo manda el congo!
Cusucuvan* ve estan
cusucuva ya esta.

No ay nobedad,
no ay nobedad.
Quel palo de la geringa
derecho va a su lugar.

* Cusucuvan: idioma de fantasía imitando el hablar africano

They are taking me away to the sea,
Although they have no right,
And my beloved mother
I must leave behind.

Ah, the Congo speaks,
The Congo commands!
Cusucuvan* ve estan
Cusucuva ya esta.

Nothing new,
Nothing new,
The moringa stick**
Delivers its load.

* Cusucuvan: made-up word imitating African speech
** Palo de jeringa: the moringa shrub

Tonada de El Chimo: Jaya llûnch

For two voices, bass and tabor, sung while dancing. In Mochica, a language now considered extinct.
Codex “Trujillo del Perú”, No. 6 (E 180)
Baltazar [Baltasar] Martínez Compañón
Cathedral of Lima (Peru), ca. 1780
Real Biblioteca, Palacio Real (Madrid)

Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch,
jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

In poc cha tan muisle pecan
muisle pecan enecam.
Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

Emens poc chi famalequi
tenque ans muisle Cuerpo lens.
Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

Emens lo cunmunon chi perdonar
moitin Rocchondo colo mec chec Jesuchristo.
Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

Poque si famali muisle cuerpolem
lo que es mucho perdonar meñefe chètas.
Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch*,
jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

Whoever speaks with you in their soul touches [me] Touches [me] in the soul, they say.
Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

And (as you say) if they speak weeping
You come to their soul and are bodily present.
Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

As you say, communion is forgiveness,
The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ was shed for me.
Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

Which means weeping in body and soul,
And that is great forgiveness, you have been my Father.
Jaya llûnch, jaya llôch.

* English translation based on Rita Eloranta’s translation of the Moche to Spanish. (The meaning of the first verse and refrain remains unknown.)

Cachua serranita, nombrada El Huicho Nuebo: No ay entendimiento humano

Cachua serranita, called El Huicho Nuebo: No Human Understanding

Sung and danced by eight palla dancers of the village of Otusco in honor of Our Lady of Carmel of the city of Trujillo.
Codex “Trujillo del Perú”, No. 19 (E 193)
Baltazar [Baltasar] Martínez Compañón
Cathedral of Lima (Peru), ca. 1780
Real Biblioteca, Palacio Real (Madrid)

[Cantan dos]
No ay entendimiento humano
que diga tus glorias hoy
y solo basta desir
qu’ eres la Madre de Dios.

[Respondes todas]
Anananana …

En la mente de Dios Padre,
fuiste Electa para Madre,
del Bervo que se humanó,
tomando en ti nuestra carne.
Anananana …

Una eres en la substancia,
y en advocaciones barias;
pero en el Carmen, Refugio,
y consuelo de las Almas.
Anananana …

Tu manto en el Purgatorio
es con qu’ el fuego le aplacas
a el porque Madre te clama,
y en Sábado lo rescatas.
Anananana …

No tiene la criatura
otro auxilio si no clama,
pues por tus Ruegos se libra
de la Sentencia más Santa.
Anananana …

Más y más misericordia,
le muestras al que te clama;
y pues que somos tus hijos
llevanos a buestra Patria.
Anananana …

El devoto fervoroso,
que a selebrarte se inclina,
lleba el premio más seguro
como qu’ eres madre pia.
Anananana …

Pues no habrá quien siendo esclavo
al fin no se vea libre
de las penas d’ esta vida
si con acierto te sirve.
Anananana …

[Two voices]
No human understanding
Today can sing your glories
And so suffice it to say
That you are the Mother of God.

[All]
A na na na na …

In the mind of God the Father
You were chosen to be Mother
Of the Word that was made Man,
Who in you took on human flesh.
A na na na na …

You are one being,
With diverse holy names;
But as Carmel you are the Refuge
And Consolation of souls.
A na na na na …

In purgatory it is your cloak
That appeases the fire
For him who calls on you as Mother;
And on Saturday* you save him.
A na na na na …

As man gets no help
Unless he asks for it,
By your intercession he is spared
The judgement of the Holiest One.
A na na na na …

You show endless mercy
To those who call upon you;
Since we are your sons,
Lead us to your Father.
A na na na na …

The devout man in his fervour
Who bows to honour you
Reaps certain reward
From his merciful mother.
A na na na na …

For there is no slave
Who will not at last be freed
From the sorrows of this life,
If he serves you faithfully.
A na na na na …

* Allusion to the “Sabbatine Privilege,” by which the Virgin Mary liberates pious souls from Purgatory