Quel dolce foco (Costanzo Festa)

From ChoralWiki
Jump to: navigation, search

Music files

L E G E N D Disclaimer How to download
ICON SOURCE
Icon_pdf.gif Pdf
Icon_snd.gif Midi
MusicXML.png MusicXML
Logo_capella-software_kurz_2011_16x16.png Capella
Nwc.png Noteworthy
Sibelius.png Sibelius
Network.png Web Page
Error.gif Score Error
File details.gif File details
Question.gif Help
  • (Posted 2017-02-24)   CPDL #43278:         
Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2017-02-24).   Score information: A4, 3 pages, 49 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: Reformatting of #11043, with major corrections. MusicXML source file is in compressed .mxl format.
  • CPDL #11043:       
Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2006-02-19).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 32 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: NoteWorthy Composer file may be viewed and printed with NoteWorthy Composer Viewer.
Error.gif Possible error(s) identified. See the discussion page for full description.
  • CPDL #05948:       
Editor: Bettina Blokland (submitted 2003-11-06).   Score information: A4, 4 pages, 115 kB   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes: Files recovered using http://archive.org
  • CPDL #03968:  Network.png
Editor: Marco Gallo (submitted 2002-08-31).   Score information: A4, 3 pages, 48 kB   Copyright: Free Art License
Edition notes: listed alphabetically by composer

General Information

Title: Quel dolce foco
Composer: Costanzo Festa

Number of voices: 3vv   Voicing: SSA
Genre: SecularMadrigal

Language: Italian
Instruments: A cappella

First published:

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

Italian.png Italian text

Quel dolce foc' in cui abbruggio ed ardo,
E par ch'ad or' ad ora mi consumi,
Non d'altro vien che da bei vostri lumi.
Però madonna fate sian più parchi
Nella turbata vista verso
Di quel che v'ama anzi v'adora.
E se per ben servir premio s'acquista
Non siate causa che languendo mora
Perché l'eterno biasmo acquistarete
Potendomi dar vita m'occidete.

English.png English translation

The sweet fire in which I burn,
And that seems to consume me hour by hour,
Only comes from your beautiful lights (read: eyes).
But, Milady, let them be more moderate
In the troublesome look
At him who loves you, or more, adores you.
And if it's true that, serving well, a prize is won
Don't be the cause of his languishing death
Because you would acquire eternal blame
If, being able to give me life, you would kill me.