Mieczysław Karłowicz - Six Songs Op. 1 (Rappé, Poblocka)

Описание: Alto: Jadwiga Rappe
Pianist: Ewa Poblocka

0:00 - Zasmuconej / The Afflicted - librettist: Kazimierz Gliński
2:18 - Skąd Pierwsze Gwiazdy na Niebie Zaświęcią / Whence the First Stars in the Sky Shine - librettist: Juliusz Słowacki
3:47 - Na Śniegu / On the Snow - librettist: Maria Konopnicka
5:16 - Zawód / Disappointment - librettist: Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer
7:21 - Pamiętam Ciche, Jasne, Złote Dnie / I Remember the Quiet, Bright, Golden Days - librettist: Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer
8:52 - Smutną jest Dusza Moja aż do Śmierci / My Soul Aches to the Point of Death - librettist: Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer

Mieczysław Karłowicz (1876-1909) was a member of the 'Young Poland' group and an accomplished symphonic composer. On top of composition, he was a member of the Warsaw Musical Society, for which he ran a string orchestra. He was most accomplished in the genre of the symphonic poem, but his violin concerto and his 'Rebirth' symphony are both excellent works as well. Unfortunately, Karłowicz died in his early 40's in an avalanche in the Tatra mountains.

Here, we have a cycle of art songs that are filled with themes of death, sadness, and regret. The individual songs come together to form a comprehensive whole, which, of course, tells a story of its own.

The translation for the lyrics are available in the subtitles and down below.

I. The saddened (Kazimierz Gliński)

You incline your head on a white chest,
A tear trembles in your eyes
What happened to you, little girl?
Where did these big tears come from?

Maybe in the moments of realization
of vanished hearts and nightmares
You feel the bliss of reminisces from long ago,
The charm of those age’d daydreams?

Maybe the roses saddened you,
That they have wilted already?
Spring’ll come back, the flowers will return,
The moment of roses’ll return.

And the butterflies will fly back,
In a multicolored throng.
The birch tree will nod its long curls,
It will strike in a murmur, stirring.

From a dream, the earth revives itself,
Warm rain falls.
In fragrant groves, a song is hummed by,
A nightingale, a bard, and seer.

Everything will be valuable, new,
In joy, sorrow endures.
The moonlit nights’ll return,
The concert of the waves will resound.

II. Whence the First Stars Shine (Juliusz Słowacki)

Whence the first stars shine,
There I’ll go, up to the edge of the dark cliffs.
I’ll look at the swans flying through the heavens

And I’ll fly about where they did.

Because here and there overseas and everywhere,
Wherever I go, before me I send a poor thought,
I am always sad and everywhere is the same;

And everywhere is bad for me and, I know, that bad will it be.

III. On the snow (Maria Konopnicka)

If I had a little silver pen,
I would dunk it in the hoar-frost,
In the early morning hoar-frost, in the meadow,
Where the diamonds lay, trembling,
They lay trembling, scattered,
Painted by the pale sun,
On our meadow!

If I had a little silver pen.
I would write on the crystal,
On the crystal, on this water,
That froze over in clear ice,
Neither going nor swimming,
Only murmuring somewhere in the depths,
On our water!

For winter songs
Whether blossoms, or dawns,
Or the azures of the sky,
Only the snowy plains are necessary for me,
Only the frozen pearls of hoar-frost,
Only the ringing of death’s bells,
Only the tears are necessary!

IV. Disillusionment (Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer)
I rocked you among the waves
Of my dreams, like a pine somewhere on the waterside,
I dreamed you were quiet and pleasant
Oh how sorry I am, how sorry…

On the greenery of the dreamy mountain pasture,
Where the wind unclasps the blue mist,
you were for me, girl, the only one
Oh how sorry I am, how sorry…

All around, the spruces resounded in the distance
With some quiet, eternal prayer
There, you were to me something like the sun
Oh how sorry I am, how sorry…
 
V. I remember quiet, bright, golden days (Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer)

I remember quiet, bright, golden days,
That today seem like a wonderful dream,
Because paradise was open to me too,
In my childhood.

I sometimes think that I only sleep,
That my whole life was a dream –
I’ll wake up and I’ll find the paradise I had
In my childhood.

VI. My soul aches to the point of death (Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer)

My soul aches to the point of death,
I lower my hands, let whatever may be,
No blow will penetrate my brain anymore,
Because I have already driven away all hope.

And here I stand, silent as in a dream,
Over the urn are my desires, smashed to pieces,
And that I had throw it off into the ashes so early…
My soul aches to the point of death.

One can find the Polish lyrics by going to IMSLP and clicking on the op.1 page and following the links embedded in the "Movements/Sections" section.

https://imslp.org/wiki/Category:Kar%C...