Text & Translation Corpo Alma che fai, che pensi? Perché piangi e sospirir, perché meco t’adiri e de’ miei fidi sensi, ch’a servirti son usi, mille offerti piacer, folle, ricusi? Dimmi, dimmi, o bell’ alma, perché mi schivi e fuggi, perché di duol ti struggi e lasciar questa salma (se per te solo è viva) di vita or vuoi nonché di gioia priva? Anima O mio caduco albergo, per te piango e sospiro e teco ancor m’adiro, che volto al cielo il tergo. Non credi aver le porte de’ sensi aperte alla vicina morte? E mentre ch’a me chiedi perché ti schivo e fuggo, perché di duol mi struggo, veggio ch’esser non credi, pria ch’altro fine arrivi, cadavero che spiri, ombra che vivi. E veggio quasi spenta nelle tue luce, o cieco, la luce ch’io t’arreco. Almen questo rammenta ch’io dirti solo agogno: l’uomo è sogno d’un ombra, ombra d’un sogno. Corpo Ma se teco son tale or che m’avvivi, quando nemica morte in bando da me terratti, quale rimarrà questo pondo, che per te sembra un pargoletto mondo? Anima Qual tu deggia restarti, privo di sensi e senza la mia vital presenza, io non saprei spiegarti, ché solo, o fragil corpo, in pensarvi, d’orror aggiaccio e torpo. Dirò sol che la nostra vita sì breve mena i giorni suoi ch’appena a questo ciel si mostra, se tu vuoi meco intanto aggiumger luce agl’occhi e voce al canto. Corpo Sì, voglio, e pria che lasso rimanga il nostro suono io, che formato sono di terra, mi terrò basso, ma tu, che spirto sei sceso dal ciel, al ciel alzar ti dei. Anima e Corpo La nostra vita è polve che, da rapido vento alzata in un momento, su per l’aria si volve; ma tosto in secco nembo sciolta sen riede alla gran madre in grembo. Anima Altri fumò la stima che con oscuro velo il chiaro volto al cielo tenti ombrar, ma non prima va con cieco furore contra il sereno ciel ch’in aria more. Corpo Rassembra il mar, ch’armato di turbini e procelle osa infino alle stelle gir con sembiante irato, ma repente quell’ onda che minacciava il ciel l’inferno inonda. Anima È simil alla spuma che del mar che si frange nascendo in modo piange ch’in pianto si concuma, sì che ben dirsi deve che la vita è di morte un pianto breve. Corpo Anzi è voce ch’uscendo fuor del materno seno viene in maniera meno ch’ella more nascendo, ne’ labbri ha cuna e negl’orecchi ha tomba. Anima e Corpo Chiamala fior di campo ch’aprendo al primo riso, se dirla non vuoi lampo che tra le nubi appare, in guisa tal ch’in apparir dispare. (English Translation) Body Soul, What are you doing, what are you thinking? Why do you weep and sigh, why do you take offense at me and scorn my faithful senses which have been used to serve you, offered a thousand times to please you, foolish one? Tell me, tell me, o gracious Soul, why you shun and flee me, why you are consumed with sorrow and why do you wish to let this body (which lives solely because of you) be deprived of life now, as well as of joy? Soul O my fleshly dwelling place, for you do I weep and sigh, and I take offense at you again because you turn your back on Heaven. do you not think to hold the gates of the senses open to the nearness of death? And while you ask me why I shun and flee you, why I am consumed with sorrow, I see that you do not believe that you are— even before you reach your end— a corpse that breathes, a shadow that lives. And I see nearly extinguished in your eyes, o blind one, the light that I bring you. therefore remember this one thing, which I earnestly desire to say to you: man is a dream of a shadow, a shadow of a dream. Body But if you say I am this sort of creature even now when you give me life, when cruel death sends you away from me into exile, what will be the prospect for this burdensome flesh, that because of you is like an innocent child? Soul What would remain for you then, deprived of your senses and without my lifegiving presence, I wouldn’t know how to explain to you, o frail Body, because of the shivering horror and shock in thinking about it. I will only tell you that our very short life goes through its days as soon as it shows itself to the heavens, in case in the meantime you wish through me to bring light to your eyes and your voice to song. Body Yes, I do, and I leave while our song remains: I will go down low to earth, since I am made of earth, but, since you are a spirit come down from heaven, you must rise up into heaven. Soul and Body Our life is dust, that, raised up in a moment by a swift wind, spins around up in the air; but as soon as it is in a dry cloud, it easily returns to the bosom of Mother Earth. Soul And then consider smoke, that with a thick veil tries to obscure the clear face of heaven, but it no sooner goes in blind fury against the serene heavens than it dies in the air. Body The sea is like this, in that, armed with whirlwinds and storms, it dares to spin up to the stars with a furious face, but suddenly this wave that once was threatening heaven now floods hell. Soul It is like the spume of the sea that, as the sea breaks up, in a way weeps as it grows, and in its weeping it consumes itself. thus it is, to put it nicely, that life is a brief weeping of death. Body Likewise is the voice, which, in going outside the chest that produces it, comes to be, in a way, except that it dies as it is born: on the lips it has its cradle and in the ears its grave. Soul and Body Consider the flower of the field that I see at its freshest bloom: you could say it’s a like lightening flash that appears amidst the clouds, such that as it appears, it disappears.

Text & Translation Fuggi, fuggi quel ben che tanto alletta l'incauto cor de' miseri mortali! Dolcezza stabile tra noi non è e variabile non serba fe’. È fior ma velenoso, è velen ma vezzoso; allor inganna più quando più ride, quando gl'occhi lusinga i cori uccide. Corri corri a quel ben che solo accende il puro cor de’ più felici amanti! Gioia più nobile il ciel non ha, ché ferma immobile sempre sarà. L’ardor non è penoso, arde, sì, ma pietoso, e quando infiamma più tanto è più grato: rende gl’occhi piangenti e’l cor beato. (English Translation) Flee, flee that love that so entices the incautious hearts of wretched mortals! Sweetness is not constant between us, and changeable devotion does not last. It is a flower but poisonous, it is a poison but pretty; the more it deceives more, the more it smiles. when it charms the eyes, it slays the heart. Run, run to that love that alone enflames the pure hearts of the happiest lovers! Joy more noble the heavens don’t have, that constant and unmoving will always be there. Passion is not painful; it burns, true, but compassionately, and the more it enflames, the more it is pleasing: it makes the eyes weepy and the heart happy.

Text & Translation Suonerà l’ultima tromba nè vi pensano i mortali. Ha la morte al tergo l’ali, E dappertutto il nome suo rimbomba. Oh, da qual cieca nube, egri viventi, S’offusca il vostro core? Sa ciascun che si more, nè si trova fra noi chi ne paventi. Son domestici spaventi i terrori della morte, cred’ ogn’ huom’ d’avere in sorte viver più degl’ elementi, pur non passano momenti chi sepolchri aperti sono, e mentr’ io così raggiono, Quanti andran’ morti alla tomba? Suonerà l’ultima tromba nè vi pensano i mortali. Ha la morte al tergo l’ali, e dappertutto il nome suo rimbomba. Che noi siam’ cenere e polve, che breve è questa vita, ch’al girar di poch’ ore, il Ciel dissolve la vanità, sì follemente ambita, si sa ch’è verità, scesa da Cieli. E pur sogni parrà ch’io vi riveli: che quanto è di vago a credula gente è semplice imago D’un bene apparente. Che quanto risplende negl’ occhi d’un volto da brevi vicende negl’ ombre è sepolto. Che a reggia Fortuna d’invito Monarca crudel’ importuna non cede la parca. Si sa ch’è verità, scesa da Cieli. E pur sogni parrà ch’io vi riveli. Parlate voi, parlate cadaveri sepolti e contro noi rivolti spettacoli d’orror’ l’ossa mostrate parlate voi, parlate e dite fra piaceri quanti giaccono qui trassar la vita di gioventù fiorita sperando al volto lor secoli interi. Morte al fin tra quest’ ombre ecco gl’involve, e non resta di loro altro che polve. In fresch’ età quei che si fidano mal si confidano, gioir si credano, ma poi s’avvedano ch’è vanità. D’un solo dì quei che si pentano non si dispensano. L’ore che sonano Sempre v’intonano viver così. Ieri già fu, come vi lassano Gl’anni che passsano. Le tombe insegnano che mal s’impegnano l’alme qua giù. Io, dall’ ossa sepolte e incenerite, cerco ritrar’ consiglio per l’alme non pentite. E pure in vano chiedo aiuto lontano, se frequenti qua giù sono i perigli. Amico, a cui poch’ anzi su le guancie fiorivan ligustri e rose, tra gl’infelici avanzi, d’una morte crudel le membra ascosi. Ahi che veduto esempio non vale a mover l’empio, che ne falli sepolto in varie forme. Benchè il Cielo lodesti con funesti, dal letargo dei vizi oppresso, dorme. (English Translation) The last trumpet will sound, though mortals do not think of it. Death has wings on his back, and everywhere his name resounds. Oh, from what blind cloud, infirm beings, does your heart grow dark? Each one knows that he must die, though there is none among us that fears it. They are common alarms, the terrors of death, each man thinks it is his fate to live longer than the elements, yet moments do not pass that graves are not opened, and while I discourse thus, how many will go dead to the tomb? The last trumpet will sound, though mortals do not think of it. Death has wings on his back, and everywhere his name resounds. That we are dust and ashes, that this life is short, that in the turning of a few hours Heaven dissolves the vanity so foolishly desired, we know that this truth descends from Heaven. And yet it will seem to be dreams that I reveal: that what is pleasing to credulous people is a mere image of a seeming good. That which glitters in the eyes of a face by brief events in the shadows is buried. That cruel importunate Fate, Does not yield To wealth , nor the bidding Of a Monarch. We know that this truth descends from Heaven. And yet it will seem to be dreams that I reveal.. Speak, speak you buried corpses, and turned towards us, you spectacles of horror, show your bones. Speak, speak and tell how many lie here who spent among pleasures a life of thriving youth hoping to last whole centuries. Death at last folds them in these shadows, and nothing remains of them but dust. Those who trust in youthful age, trust ill, they think to rejoice, but then find that it is vanity. Those who repent of one day only are not exempt. The hours that strike ever warn us to live thus. Yesterday is gone. how they leave you, the years that pass. The tombs teach that souls do wrong to engage themselves down here. I, from bones buried and reduced to ashes, seek to win counsel for unrepentant souls. And yet I ask in vain for distant help, if down here the dangers are many. Friend, on whose cheeks lilacs and roses bloomed a little before, go forth among the unfortunate ones, your limbs hidden by a cruel death. Ah, but the example seen does not avail to move the impious one, who may sin, buried many ways. Though Heaven alerts him with grievous warnings, He, oppressed with the torpor of vices, sleeps on.

Text & English Translation Tenor (Scott Whitaker) Proposui in mente mea quærere et investigare sapientes de omnibus quæ sunt super terram. Vidi omnia quæ fint sub sole, et contemplatus sum quæcumque magis expetunt filii hominum, et ecce universa vanitas et afflictio spiritus. Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Chorus Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Tenor I decided in my mind to ask and survey the wise about all the things that there are in the world. I saw all that happened under the sun, and I contemplated all those things most desired by the sons of men, and so all is vanity and affliction to the soul. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. Chorus Vanity of vanities , all is vanity.

Text & English Translation Cantus Primus (Catherine Webster) Cogitavi transferre animum ad sapientiam, dedi cor meum et scirem prudentiam atque doctrinam ut stultitiam evitaren et viderem quod esset utilis filiis hominum numero dierum vitæ suæ, et cognovi quod in his quoque esset labor et afflictio spiritus. Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Chorus Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. First Soprano I meditated on dedicating my spirit to wisdom; I gave my heart to know prudence and the Doctrine so to avoid foolishness and sought what is useful to the sons of men to help them proceed with the days of their lives and I realized that even in this there is anxiety and affliction of the soul. Vanity of vanities , all is vanity. Chorus Vanity of vanities , all is vanity.

Text & Translation Altus (Paul Elliott) Dixit in corde meo: Vadam, et affluam dedictus, et frurar bonis. Magnificavi opera mea, ædificavi mihi domus, plantavi vineas, hotos et pomaria, et extruxi piscinas aquarum ad irrigandas silvas lignorum germinantium. Et vidi quod essent omnia vanitas et afflictio spiritus. Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Chorus Omnia vanitas, vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Alto I said to my heart: I should go and enjoy all delights, and use good things. I exalted my works, built palaces, planted vineyards, orchards and gardens, and built reservoirs of water to irrigate the forests of budding plants. And I found true that all these were vanities and affliction of the spirit. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. Chorus All is vanity, vanity of vanities, all is vanity.

Text & Translation Bassus (Peter Becker) Coacervavi mihi argentum et aurum et substantias regnum et provinciarum, possedi quoque et ancillas, multamque familiam habui, armenta quoque et magnos ovium greges comparavi, et supergressus sum opibus omnes qui fuerunt ante me. Et vidi quod hoc quoque esset vanitas et afflitio spiritus. Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Chorus Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Bass I collected silver and gold, and the goods of kingdoms and countrymen. I also owned slaves and had many servants, armor too and I bought large flocks of sheep and I surpassed the riches of those before me. And I found true that even this is vanity and affliction of the spirit. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. Chorus All is vanity, vanity of vanities, all is vanity.

Text & English Translation Cantus Secondus (Jennifer Ellis Kampani) Feci mihi cantores et cantatrices, et delicias filiorum hominum, nec prohibui cor meum quin omni voluptate frueretur, et oblectaret se in his quæ præparaverum. Cunque me convertissemad omnia quæ feceram, vidi in omnibus vanitatem et afflictionem spiritus, et nihil permanere sub sole. Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Chorus Omnia vanitas, vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Second Soprano I hired men and women singers and the delights of the sons and men and I did not deny myself enjoyment from my heart, or to lavish in all things I prepared. But looking on to all the things I had done, in all I saw vanity and affliction of the spirit, and that nothing lasts under the sun. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. Chorus All is vanity, vanity of vanities, all is vanity.

Text & English Translation Cantus Primus et Cantus Secondus (Catherine Webster & Jennifer Ellis Kampani) Hinc, mortales, ediscite quod vana mundi guadia, inanes labores, fugaces honores, mendaces favores: omnia vanitas et umbra sunt. Altus, Tenor et Bassus (Paul Elliott, Scott Whitaker, Peter Becker) Sceptra, coronæ, purporæ, pompæ, triumphi, lauræ, decora, ornatus, gloriæ, et lusus, et deliciæ, et fastus, et divitiæ: omnia vanitas et umbra sunt. First and Second Soprano From here, oh mortals learn that the joys of the world are vain, struggles are vain, honour is frivolous, favors are false: all things are vanities and darkness. Alto, Tenor, Bass Sceptres, crowns, robes, ceremony, triumphs, victories, honors, ornaments, glories, and games, and delights, and splendors, and riches, all are vanities and darkness.

Text & English Translation Chorus Omnia vanitas et umbra sunt. Ubi sunt præclari reges qui dederunt orbi leges, ubi gentium doctores, civitatum conditores? Pulvis sunt et cineres. Ubi septem sapientes, et scientias, adolentes, ubi rectores discordes, ubi artifices experti? Pulvis sunt et cineres. Ubi fortes sunt gigantes, tanto robore præstantes, ubi invicti bellatores, barbararorum domitores? Pulvis sunt et cineres. Ubi heroum inclita proles, ubi vastæ urbium moles, ubi Athenæ, ubi Carthago, veterisque Thebæ imago? Solum nomen superest. Ubi dictatorum gloriæ, ubi consolum victoriæ, ubi laureæ triumphales, ubi decus immortale romanorum onorium? Solum nomen superest. Heu, nos miseros. Sicut acquæ dilabimur et sicut folium quod vento rapitur, deficimus, eripimur. Votis decipimur, tempore fallimur, moret deludimur; quæ nos anxii quærimus, quæ solliciti petimus, omnia vanitas et umbra sunt. Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas. Chorus All are vanities and darkness. Where are the famous leaders who created laws for the world, where are the guides of the people, the founders of the cities? They are dust and ashes. Where are the seven wise ones, the adorers of the sciences, where are disputing orators, where are the creative experts? They are dust and ashes. Where are the giant strong ones, outstanding for their power, where are the invincible fighters, where are the tamers of barbarians? They are dust and ashes. Where is the famous descent of the heroes, where are the vast piers of the cities, where is Athens, where is Carthage, and the ancient face of Thebes? Only the name remains. Where are the glories of the dictators, where are the victories of the counselors, where are the triumphal laurel leaves, where is the immortal dignity of the honorable Romans? Only the name remains. Oh, we the miserable. We disperse like water and like a leaf that is taken by the wind, we fall, we are dragged away. We are deceived by our dreams, fooled by time, deluded by death; the things we anxiously sought, that we urgently asked for, all these are vanity and darkness. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.