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We have to die
O how you deceive yourself
if you think your time
won’t come to an end,
we have to die.
Life is a dream
that seems so pleasing
but is briefly enjoyed,
we have to die.
Of no avail is medicine,
of no use is quinine,
we cannot be cured,
we have to die.
It’s no use ranting
and railing, the bravado
that stiffens courage,
we must die.
No guiding doctrine
finds the words
to allay our fears,
we have to die.
There's no means
to untie this knot,
there's no escape,
we must die.
It’s our common fate,
no cunning ploys
can fend it off,
we must die.
Cruel death
betrays us all,
shames each of us,
die we must.
It's just lunatic
and frenetic
to tell lies about it,
die we must.
We die when singing,
we die when playing
the zither, the bagpipe,
die we must.
We die when dancing,
drinking and eating;
trapped in our bodies,
die we must.
Youngsters and toddlers
and all of humanity
are burnt to ashes,
we have to die.
The healthy, the sick,
the brave, the helpless,
all come to an end,
we have to die.
And when you are least
expecting it, you will
come to your end,
we have to die.
If it's not on your mind,
you’ve lost your senses,
and are dead, so you can say:
we have to die.
English translation by Paul Archer of the text of Bisogna morire by an anonymous composer although it is sometimes attributed to Stefano Landi (1587-1639). The full title is 'La Passacaglia della Vita'. A passacaglia is a musical form of Spanish origin with a succession of variations on a ground bass. The name comes from the Spanish 'passare la calle' or 'going down the road' which suggests its origin in the music of wandering minstrels.
See the copyright notice below.
Bisogna morire
Oh come t'inganni
se pensi che gl'anni
non hann' da finire,
bisogna morire.
È un sogno la vita
che par sì gradita,
è breve gioire,
bisogna morire.
Non val medicina,
non giova la China,
non si può guarire,
bisogna morire.
Non vaglion sberate,
minarie, bravate
che caglia l'ardire,
bisogna morire.
Dottrina che giova,
parola non trova
che plachi l'ardire,
bisogna morire.
Non si trova modo
di scoglier 'sto nodo,
non val il fuggire,
bisogna morire.
Commun'è statuto,
non vale l'astuto
'sto colpo schermire,
bisogna morire.
La morte crudele
a tutti è infedele,
ogn'uno svergogna,
morire bisogna.
È pur ò pazzia
o gran frenesia,
par dirsi menzogna,
morire bisogna.
Si more cantando,
si more sonando
la Cetra, o Sampogna,
morire bisogna.
Si muore danzando,
bevendo, mangiando;
con quella carogna
morire bisogna.
I Giovani, i putti
e gl'Huomini tutti
s'hann'a incenerire,
bisogna morire.
I sani, gl'infermi,
i bravi, gl'inermi
tutt'hann'a finire,
bisogna morire.
E quando che meno
ti pensi, nel seno
ti vien a finire,
bisogna morire.
Se tu non vi pensi
hai persi li sensi,
sei morto e puoi dire:
bisogna morire.
Recording. Marco Beasley and L'Arpeggiata.
Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpAxBZSXW28
Copyright notice. The translation is provided as an aid to musicians and audiences. Publication of the translation in print or digital formats is expressly forbidden unless permission from the author has been first obtained and acknowledgement of authorship is duly made. Permission will usually be granted so please contact Paul Archer with details of how you wish to make use of the translation.
For more translations into English of early music texts, go to:
Translations of early music texts. |
