All ye, whom love or fortune hath betrayed (John Dowland)
Music files
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- CPDL #25852:
Capella
- Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2012-04-04). Score information: A4, 3 pages, 32 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes: Transposed up a major second.
- CPDL #13113: NoteWorthy Composer
- Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2006-11-17). Score information: A4, 3 pages, 27 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes:
Possible error(s) identified. See the discussion page for full description.
- CPDL #05481:
PDF, MIDI and Capella 4 files available.
- Editor: Ulrich Alpers (submitted 2003-08-18). Score information: A4, 2 pages, 61 kB Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes: Scroll down to #14 of 'The Firste Booke of Songes' collection. Capella zipped file (of all works of the collection) not found.
- Possible error(s) identified. See the discussion page for full description.
- CPDL #02932: PDF, MIDI, ABC and LilyPond files available.
- Editor: Laura Conrad (submitted 2001-08-08). Score information: A4, 4 pages, 89 kB Copyright: GnuGPL
- Edition notes: in partbook format
General Information
Title: All ye, whom love or fortune hath betrayed
Composer: John Dowland
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Madrigal
Language: English
Instruments: Lute or a cappella
Published: The First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597), no. 14
Description:
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
1. All ye whom Love or Fortune hath betrayed,
All ye that dream of bliss, but live in grief,
All ye whose hopes are ever more delay'd,
All ye whose sighs or sickness wants relief:
Lend ears and tears to me, most hapless man,
That sings my sorrows like the dying swan.
2. Care that consumes the heart with inward pain,
Pain that presents sad care in outward view,
Both, tyrant-like, enforce me to complain,
But still in vain: for none my plaints will rue.
Tears, sighs and ceaseless cries alone I spend:
My woe wants comfort, and my sorrow end.
Polish translation
by Stanisław Jonczyk
1. Wy wszyscy, przez Miłość i Fortunę zdradzeni,
Rozkoszy pragnący lecz żyjący w cierpieniu,
Wy, których los już się nie odmieni,
Wy wszyscy - pragnący już tylko ukojenia.
Użyczcie łez mi - najżałośliwszemu z was,
Co, jak łabędź mrący, wyśpiewuje swój żal.
2. Troska trawiąca serce boleśnie,
I ból dobywający ją z duszy odmętów.
One są twórcami żałosnej tej pieśni;
Na próżno! Nikt nie pożałuje mojego lamentu.
Płaczę, szlocham i łkam wciąż w samotności,
Pragnąc końca cierpień mych i końca żałości.