Voici que le Printemps Across the hilltops comes the spring, blithe April's son! In doublet, broidered green, White roses sewn between! He laughs lightly! With hand on hip advances brightly! Comes to his own like a monarch, his long weary exile done! The leafy branches crowd along the narrow byways, Where comes the lusty lad, He dances there like mad! He bears a nightingale high on one shoulder hale. The other bears a blackbird, piping boldly skyways. And the flow'rs who were sleeping 'mid the mossy wood Unveil their eyes where shadows are vague and tender, See them standing on tiptoe straight. there eager ears surrender, List'ning the two birds singing together the while! For the blackbird doth pipe And the nightingale chanteth, The blackbird, whistling, jeers at the lovelorn youth. And for those in Love's paradise, of smiling lips and eyes, Nightingale all the wood with melody enchanteth ! Paysage Sentimental The winter sky, so sweet, so sad, so slumbrous, where the sun wandered among pale mists, was like the sweet, deep feeling that made us happy in a melancholy way on that afternoon of kisses under the branches, Dead branches not stirred by any breeze, black branches with a few withered leaves. Ah, how your lips were given to my lips more tenderly still in this great, mute woods and in this languor of the year's death, The death of everything except that I love you, and except for the happiness filling my soul, happiness that rests deep in this isolated soul, mysterious, peaceful and cool, like the pond that grew pale at the bottom of the pale valley. Vainement, ma bien-aimee Since these jealous guardians will not be moved to mercy, ah, let me tell you of my anguish and my torment! In vain, my beloved, do I seem to despair: Next to your closed door I am determined to stay! Suns may be extinguished, nights replace days, but without blaming you and without complaint, I shall stay here forever! I know that you have a kind heart, and the hour will soon come when the hand which now pushes me away will reach out towards mine! Do not delay too long in allowing yourself to be won over by your tender feelings; If Rozenn does not appear soon, I, alas, shall die! Logan Ferguson, Tenor Haeju Choi, Piano Junior Voice Recital Recital Hall Thursday, November9, 2017 • 7:30 p.m. Kt l'Herberger Institute ~FOR ARIZONA DESIGN AND THE ARTS STATE UNIVERSITY School of Music Program If My Complaints Could Passions Move Come Again: Sweet Love Weep you no more, sad fountaines Fine Knacks for Ladies F. Paolo Tosti ( 1846-1914) Ideale La Serenata Sogno Trois Melodies 1. La Belle au Bois Dormant 2. Voici que le Printemps 3. Paysage Sentimental Claude Debussy (1862-1918) "Vainement, ma bien-aimee," Leroi d'Y s Ideate I followed you like a rainbow of peace along the paths of heaven; I followed you like a friendly torch in the veil of darkness, and I sensed you in the light, in the air, in the perfume of flowers, and the solitary room was full of you and of your radiance. Absorbed by you, I dreamed a long time of the sound of your voice, and earth's every anxiety, every torment I forgot in that dream. Come back, dear ideal, for an instant to smile at me again, and in your face will shine for me a new dawn. John Dowland ( 1563-1626) Edouard Lalo (1823-1892) La Serenata Fly, o serenade: My beloved is alone, with her beautiful head hidden under the sheets: 0 serenade, fly. 0 serenade, fly. The moonlight is pure, wings of silence stretch out, and behind the veils of the dark alcove the lamp bums. The pure moonbeams shine. The pure moonbeams shine. Fly, o serenade, Fly, o serenade, fly. La Serenata (cont.) Fly, o serenade: My beloved is alone, but still smiling while half asleep, she has returned beneath the sheets: 0 serenade, fly. 0 serenade, fly. La Belle au Bois Donnant Holes in his ruby doublet, A knight passes by the dark, His hair full of sunshine Under a helmet the color of the moon, Sleep always, sleep in the wood, The ring, Beauty, on your finger. The waves dream on the shore, and the wind blows through the branches; and my kisses don't result in a nest being offered, by my blonde lady. Dreaming on the shore, are the waves. Dreaming on the shore, are the waves. In the dust of battles, He has killed loyally and justly, Striking with cut and with point, as a king would strike. Sleep in the wood, where the verbena flowers with the marjoram. Fly, o serenade. · Fly, o serenade, fly. Sogno I dreamt that you were on your knees Like a saint praying to the Lord. You were looking deep into my eyes, With a glowing look of love. You were speaking quietly, Asking me sweetly for forgiveness. That she be allowed just one glance, You begged, curled at my feet. I stayed silent and, with a strong will, Fought the irresistible desire. I had faced martyrdom and death; Still, I forced myself to say no. But then your lips touched my face, And my heart betrayed me. I closed my eyes, reached out to you; But I had been dreaming, and that beautiful dream vanished. And over the mountains and over the plains, mounted on his large charger, He races, he races breathlessly, Completely straight in his stirrups, Sleep, Sleeping Beauty, dream that you will wed a prince. In the forest of white lilacs Under the golden spur which agitates him his charger beads with blood The white lilacs, and on he goes, still more quickly Sleep in the wood, sleep on, o Beauty behind your curtains of lace. But he has taken the ruby ring, The knight, who, by dark has hair full of sunshine, under a helmet the color of the moon. Sleep no more, Sleeping Beauty, The ring is no longer on your finger. Voici que le Printemps Across the hilltops comes the spring, blithe April's son! In doublet, broidered green, White roses sewn between! He laughs lightly! With hand on hip advances brightly! Comes to his own like a monarch, his long weary exile done! The leafy branches crowd along the narrow byways, Where comes the lusty lad, He dances there like mad! He bears a nightingale high on one shoulder hale. The other bears a blackbird, piping boldly skyways. And the flow'rs who were sleeping 'mid the mossy wood Unveil their eyes where shadows are vague and tender, See them standing on tiptoe straight. there eager ears surrender, List'ning the two birds singing together the while! For the blackbird doth pipe And the nightingale chanteth, The blackbird, whistling, jeers at the lovelorn youth. And for those in Love's paradise, of smiling lips and eyes, Nightingale all the wood with melody enchanteth ! Paysage Sentimental The winter sky, so sweet, so sad, so slumbrous, where the sun wandered among pale mists, was like the sweet, deep feeling that made us happy in a melancholy way on that afternoon of kisses under the branches, Dead branches not stirred by any breeze, black branches with a few withered leaves. Ah, how your lips were given to my lips more tenderly still in this great, mute woods and in this languor of the year's death, The death of everything except that I love you, and except for the happiness filling my soul, happiness that rests deep in this isolated soul, mysterious, peaceful and cool, like the pond that grew pale at the bottom of the pale valley. Vainement, ma bien-aimee Since these jealous guardians will not be moved to mercy, ah, let me tell you of my anguish and my torment! In vain, my beloved, do I seem to despair: Next to your closed door I am determined to stay! Suns may be extinguished, nights replace days, but without blaming you and without complaint, I shall stay here forever! I know that you have a kind heart, and the hour will soon come when the hand which now pushes me away will reach out towards mine! Do not delay too long in allowing yourself to be won over by your tender feelings; If Rozenn does not appear soon, I, alas, shall die! Logan Ferguson, Tenor Haeju Choi, Piano Junior Voice Recital Recital Hall Thursday, November9, 2017 • 7:30 p.m. Kt l'Herberger Institute ~FOR ARIZONA DESIGN AND THE ARTS STATE UNIVERSITY School of Music