Kate Markwart: Lyrics and Translations

March 24, 2025

The Mermaid Song

by Joseph Haydn (1732-1809)
Poetry by Anne Hunter (1742-1821)

Now the dancing sunbeams play
On the green and glassy sea,
Come and I will lead the way
Where the pearly treasures be;

Come with me and we will go
Where the rocks of coral grow,
Of coral grow,
Follow, follow, follow me,
Follow, follow, follow me!

Come with me and we will go
Where the rocks of coral grow,
Where the rocks of coral grow,
Follow, follow, follow me,
Follow, follow, follow me!

Come behold what treasures lie
Far below the rolling waves,
Riches hid from human eye
Dimly shining ocean’s caves;

Ebbing tides bear no delay,
Stormy winds are far away,
Stormy winds are far away,
Stormy winds are far away!

Come with me and we will go
Where the rocks and coral grow,
Of coral grow,
Follow, follow, follow me,
Follow, follow, follow me!

Come with me and we will go
Where the rocks of coral grow,
Where the rocks of coral grow,
Follow, follow, follow me,
Follow, follow, follow me!

“I fauni” from Dietà Silvane, No. 1

by Ottorino Respighi (1879-1936),
Poetry by Antonio Rubino (1880-1964)

S’odono al monte i saltelanti rivi,
One hears in the hills the bubbling brooks,
Murmureggiare per le forre astruse:
Murmuring through the dark ravines,
S’odono al bosco gemer cornamuse
One hears in the woods the groan of the bagpipes
Con garrito di pifferi giulivi.
With the chirp of the merry fifes.

E i fauni in corsa per dumeti e clivi
And the fauns racing over hills and through thickets,
Erti le corna sulle fronti ottuse,
Their horns erect above their broad foreheads,
Bevono per lor nari camuse
Drink through their blunt, upturned nostrils
Filtri sottili e zefiri lascivi.
Subtle potions and lascivious winds.

E, mentre in fondo al gran coro alberato
And, while beneath the great choir of trees,
Piange d’amore per la vita bella
They weep, for the love of the beautiful life:
La sampogna dell’arcade pastore,
The bagpipes of the arcadian shepherd,
Contenta e paurosa dell’agguato
Happy and fearful of the impending ambush.

Fugge ogni ninfa più che fiera snella,
The nymphs flee, faster than wild gazelles,
Ardendo in bocca come ardente fiore!
Their ardent lips like blazing flowers!

Loves Philosophy, Op. 3, No. 1

by Roger Quilter (1877-1953),
Poetry by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

The fountains mingle with the river
And the river with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single
All things by a law divine,
In one another’s being mingle
Why not I with thine,
Not I with thine.

See the mountains kiss high heaven
And the waves clasp one another,
No sister’s flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea,
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me!

Lorelei (1843)

by Clara Schumann
Poetry by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)

Ich weiß nicht was soll es bedeuten
I do not know what it means
Daß ich o traurig bin,
That I should feel so sad,
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten
There is a tale from olden times
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn;
I can’t get out of my mind;

Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt
The air is cool, and twilight falls,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein;
And the Rhine flows quietly by;
Der gipfel des Berges funkelt
The summit of the mountains glitters
Im Abendsonnenschein!
In the evening sun.

Die schönste jungfrau sitzet
The fairest maiden is sitting
Dort oben wunderbar,
In wondrous beauty up there,
Ihr goldnes Geschmeide blitzet,
Her golden jewels are sparkling,
Sie kämmt ihr goldnes Haar.
She combs her golden hair.

Sie kämmt es mit gold’nem Kamme
She combs it with a golden comb
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
And sings a song the while;
Das hat eine wundersame,
It has an awe inspiring
Gewaltige Melodei,
Powerful melody,

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe
It seizes the boatman in his skiff
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
With wildly aching pain;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
He does not see the rocky reefs,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh’.
He only looks up to the heights.

Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
I think at last the waves swallow
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn;
The boatman and his boat;
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen
And that, with her singing
Die Lorelei getan.
The Lorelei has done.

Die Elfe from Lieder und Gesänge, I. No. 6

by Joseph Marx (1882-1964),
Poetry by Joseph von Eichendorff (1880-1951)

Bleib, bei uns! Stay with us!

Wir haben den Tanz platz im Tal
We have covered a clearing in the dell,
Bedeckt von mondenglanze,
With moonlight for the dance,
Johaniswürmchen erleuchten den Sall
Fireflies illuminate the hall
Die Heimchen spielen zum Tanze;
And crickets are playing dance-music;

Die Freude das schöne
Joy, the fair,
Leichtgläub’ge Kind,
Over-credulous child,
Es wiegt sich in Abendwinden;
Is lulled by the evening winds;

Wo Silber über die Zweige rinnt,
Where silver runs on branch and bush
Sollst du die Schönste finden.
You will find the fairest girl.

3 Songs

by Ethel Smyth (1858-1944)

No. 1. The Clown

Poetry by Maurice Baring (1874-1945)

There was once a poor clown all dressed in white
And chained to the dungeon bar,
And he danced all day, and he danced all night
To the sound of dancing stars.

O clown, silly clown, oh why do you dance,
You know you can never be free,
You are tied by the leg to the strings of chance
Yet you dance like a captive flea.

My chain is heavy, my cell is dark,
I know I can never be free.
In my heart, in my heart, there’s a dancing spark,
And the stars make music for me.

O muffle my cell and rivet my chains,
And fetter my feet and my hands.
My soul is a horse of foam without reigns,
That dances on deathless sands.

O muffle my cell and rivet my chains,
And fetter my feet and my hands.

No. 2. Possession

Poetry by Ethel Carnie (1886-1962)

There bloomed at my cottage door
A rose with a heart scented sweet,
O so lovely and fair
That I plucked it one day;
Laid it over my own hearts swift beat.

In a moment its petals were shed,
Just a tiny white mound at my feet.

There came to my casement low
A linnet that richly could sing,
Sang so thrillingly sweet
I could not let it go;
But must cage it
The wild happy thing.

But it pined in the cage I had made,
Not a note to my chamber did bring.

There came to my lonely soul
The friend I had waited for long,
And the deep chilly silence lay stricken and dead,
Pierced to death by our love and our song;
And I thought of the bird and the flower,
And my soul in its knowledge grew strong!

Go out when thou wilt, O friend,
Sing thy song, roam the world glad and free;
By the holding I lose, by the giving I gain,
And the gods cannot take thee from me;

For a song and a scent on the wind
Shall drift in through the doorway from thee.

By the holding, I lose,
By the giving, I gain.

No. 3. On the Road

Poetry by Ethel Carnie (1886-1962)

O the beat of the drums and the sheen of the spears
And the banners that toss like the sea,
Better far, than the peace that is dungeon and death
To the wild rebel soul set in me;

Better pour out the blood in a swift crimson flood
As to music we march to the grave,
Than to feel day by the day the slow drops ebb away
From the chain bitten heart of a slave.

O to fight to the death with a hope through the strife
That the freedom we seek shall be ours,
Better far than despair that with cowardly word
Trembles back from the front of the pow’rs;

Better do, dare, and fail, than shrink like a leaf pale
In the breath of the wild autumn wind,
Better death on the field with an honour bright shield
Than the soft bed that coward’s hearts find.

O we leave hearth stone warm for the rain beaten road
And our arrows are hung at our side,
Freedom dearer to us than the home that we leave
Or the soft clinging arms of the bride;
For our children’s fair eyes,
Like the stars of the skies.

Foemans gleaming with hate, chill as steal
From the soft mother’s touch,
That which strikes over much
Till the life stricken deep
Earthward reels.

We have waited so long, we will wait now no more,
But are marching our freedom to meet,
Keeping time to a tune that is brave as our hearts
While the stones clatter loud to our feet.

Can we fail when we fight for the sake of the light
From the hearths where our cradles have stood,
For the fathers long dead,
For the races ahead
That shall spring up like flowers from our blood!

Fairy Lullaby from 3 Shakespeare Songs, Op. 37, No. 3

by Amy Beach (1867-1944)
Poetry by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

Philomel with melody
Sing in our sweet lullaby,
Philomel, philomel,
Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Philomel with melody
Sing, sing!
In our sweet lullaby.

Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
Come our lovely lady nigh;
Never harm, never harm,
Come our lady nigh;

Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
Come our lovely lady nigh.
So goodnight with lullaby,
So goodnight…
With lullaby.

La fée aux chansons from 2 Melodies, Op. 27, No. 2

by Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924)
Poetry by Armand Silvestre (1837-1901)

Il était une Fée D’herbe folle coiffée,
There was a fairy with grass wild coiffed hair,
Qui courait les buissons
Who ran about the bushes,
Sans s’y laisser surprendre
Without herself allowing to be surprise,
En avril, pour apprendre
In April, to teach
Aux oiseaux leurs chansons.
The birds their songs.

Lorsque geais et linottes
When the jays and the linnets
Faissaient des fausses notes
Made some notes wrong
En récitant leurs chants,
While reciting their songs,
La fée avec constance,
The fairy, with steadfastness,
Gourmandait d’importance
Would-scold with severity
Ces élèves méchants;
Those naughty pupils;

Sa petite main nue
The little bare hand
D’un brin d’herbe menue,
With a blade of tiny grass,
Cueilli dans les halliers,
Plucked in the thickets,
Pour stimuler leurs zèles,
To stimulate their zeal,
Fouettait sur leurs ailes
Would whip the wings
Ces mauvais écouliers.
Of those bad students.

Par un matin d’automne,
On a morning in autumn
Elle vient et s’étonne,
She came and was astonished
De voir les bois déserts:
To see the woods deserted:

Avec les hirondelles
With the swallows
Ses amis infidèles
Her friends unfaithful
Avaient fui dans les airs.
Had fled into the air.

Et tout l’hiver la Fée,
And all winter the fairy
D’herbe morte coiffée,
With dead-grass-coiffed hair,
Et comptant
And counting
Les instants:
The minutes:

Sous les forêts immenses,
In the vast forest,
Compose des romances
Composes some romances
Pour le prochain Printemps!
For the next spring!

Neue Liebe from 6 Songs, Op. 19a, No. 4

by Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847),
Poetry by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)

In dem Mondenschein im Walde
In the moonlight of the forest
Sah ich jüngst die Elfen reiten,
I saw of late the elves riding,
Ihre Hörner hört ich klingen,
I heard their horns resounding,
Ihre Glöcklein hört ich läuten;
I heard their little bells ring;

Ihre weißen Rößlein trugen,
Their little white horses
Gold’nes Hirschgeweih’ und flogen rasch dahin,
Had golden antlers and flew quickly past,
Wie wilde Schwäne kam
Like wild swans they came
Es durch die Luft gezogen;
Through the air, quickly:

Lächelnd nickte mir die Kön’gin,
With a smile the queen nodded to me,
Lächelnd im Vorüberreiten;
With a smile, she rode quickly by,
Galt das meiner neuen Liebe,
Was it the herald of new love?
Oder soll es Tod bedeuten?
Or does it signify death?

Thank Goodness

Glinda’s song from Wicked by Stephen Schwartz (b.1948)

*Fellow Ozians!
As terrifying as terror is,
Let us put aside our panic for this one day…
And celebrate!*

Oh what a celebration we’ll have today,
Thank goodness!
Let’s have a celebration the Glinda way,
Thank goodness!
Finally a day that’s totally Wicked Witch free,
We couldn’t be happier, thank goodness!

Yes, we couldn’t be happier,
Right dear?
Couldn’t be happier,
Right here;
Look what we’ve got,
Our fairytale plot,
Our very own happy ending;

Where we couldn’t be happier,
Simply couldn’t be happier,
And we’re happy to share our ending
Vicariously with all of you!
He couldn’t look handsomer,
I couldn’t be humbler,
We couldn’t be happier;
Because happy is what happens
When all your dreams come true!

That’s why I couldn’t be happier,
No, I couldn’t be happier,
Though it is, I admit, the tiniest bit
Unlike I anticipated;
But I couldn’t be happier,
Simply couldn’t be happier-
Well, not simply…
‘Cause getting your dreams,
It’s strange, but it seems a little,
Well, complicated;
There’s a kind of, a sort of, cost,
There’s a couple of things get, lost,
There are bridges you cross
You didn’t know you’ve crossed until you’ve crossed!

And if that joy, that thrill,
Doesn’t thrill like you think it will,
Still, with this perfect finale,
The cheers and the ballyhoo!
Who wouldn’t be happier?
So I couldn’t be happier;
Because happy is what happens
When all your dreams come true.
Well, isn’t it?
Happy is what happens
When your dreams come true!

Thank Goodness!
I couldn’t be happier…
Today!

Les cavaliers, duo pour voix, VWV4039

by Pauline Viardot (1821-1910)
Poetry by Louis Pomey (1835-1901)

Ma soeur, My sister,
As tu va ma soeur, ces deux cavaliers?
Are you going, my sister, those two horsemen?
Qui passaient sur leurs noirs coursiers?
Who passed by on their black steeds?
Jamais prince, ni fils de reine
Never a prince, nor a queen’s son
N’eut cette gràce souveraine;
Without this sovereign grace,

Au feu qui brilliat dans leurs yeux
In the fire that shone in their eyes
On eut cru voir des demidieux;
One could have thought to see demigods;
Ah! Les belles que leur coeur aime,
Ah! The beauties that their heart loves,
Possèdent le bien suprème!
Possess the supreme good!

Mais las! Où donc sontelles,
But alas! Where are they,
Ces trop heureuses belles?
These too happy beauties?
Quel palais enchanté
What enchanting palace
A brite leur félicité?
Has sheltered their felicity?

Vois, ma soeur, encor ces deux cavaliers,
See, my sister, again those two horsemen,
Qui repassent sur leurs coursiers;
Who pass by on their steeds;
Jamais prince, ni fils de reine
Never a prince, nor a queen’s son
N’eut cette gràce souveraine.
Without this sovereign grace.

Mais, ò bonheur! Regarde donc, ma soeur!
But, oh happiness! Look then, my sister!
N’est ce pas une folle erreur?
Isn’t this a mad mistake?
Tous les deux sous notre fenètre,
Both under our window,
Ne les vois je pas reparaìtre?
Do I not see them reappear?

O bonheur, je les vois reparaìtre,
Oh happiness, I see them reappear,

Qu’ils sont beaux, avec quelle adresse
How beautiful they are, with what skill
Ils font danser leurs nois coursiers!
They make their steeds dance!
Ma soeur, c’est à nous que s’adresse
My sister, it is to us that the greeting
Le salut des fiers cavaliers,
Of the proud horsemen is addressed,

C’est à nous,
It is to us,
À nous,
To us,
Ma soeur, c’est à nous!
My sister, it is to us!

La Partenza from Soirées musicales, No. 3

by Gioachini Rossini (1792-1868)
Poetry by Pietro Metastasio (1698-1782)

Ecco quel fiero istante,
Now comes the painful instant
Nice, mia Nice, addio;
Nice, my Nice, goodbye!
Come vivrò, ben mio,
How can I live, my love
Così lontan da te?
So far away from you!

Io vivrò sempre,
Sempre in pene,
My life will be a burden
Io non avrò più bene,
Without any happiness
E tu chi sa se mai
But who knows if ever
Ti sovverrai di me,
You will remember me.

Sempre nel tuo cammino,
On your way I shall always
Sempre m’avrai vicino
Be close to you
E tu chi sa se mai
But who knows if ever
Ti sovverrai di me,
You will remember me.

Chi sa mai se ti sovverrai di me,
Who knows if ever
Se ti sovverrai di me!
You will remember me!

Ecco quel fiero istante,
Now comes the painful instant
Nice, mia Nice, addio;
Nice, my Nice, goodbye!
Come vivrò, ben mio,
How can I live, my love
Così lontan da te?
So far away from you!

Goodnight Moon (2012)

by Eric Whitacre (b. 1970)
Text by Margaret Wise Brown (1910-1952)

In the great green room,
There was a telephone
And a red balloon,
And picture of the cow
Jumping over the moon;
And there were three little bears,
Sitting on chairs;

And two little kittens,
And a pair of mittens,
And a little toy house,
And a young mouse;

And a comb and a brush,
And a bowl full of mush;
And a quiet old lady who was whispering… hush.

Goodnight room,
Goodnight moon,
Goodnight cow jumping over the moon;
Goodnight light and the red balloon,
Goodnight bears, goodnight chairs;
Goodnight kittens, goodnight mittens,
Goodnight clocks and goodnight socks;
Goodnight little house,
Goodnight mouse;
Goodnight comb,
And goodnight brush;
Goodnight nobody,
Goodnight mush;

And goodnight to the old lady whispering… hush.

Goodnight stars,
Goodnight air,
Goodnight noises everywhere;
Goodnight,
Goodnight!
Goodnight noises everywhere.