{"id":16349,"date":"2020-03-19T15:37:29","date_gmt":"2020-03-19T14:37:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/archive.iask.hu\/hu\/?p=16349"},"modified":"2020-03-25T16:57:34","modified_gmt":"2020-03-25T15:57:34","slug":"encore-alberto-roque-santana-threnos-de-morte-barbarae-matris-oratorio-based-on-a-poem-by-janus-pannonius","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/archive.iask.hu\/en\/encore-alberto-roque-santana-threnos-de-morte-barbarae-matris-oratorio-based-on-a-poem-by-janus-pannonius\/","title":{"rendered":"Encore! &#8211; Alberto Roque Santana: Threnos, de morte Barbarae matris \u2013  Oratorio based on a poem by Janus Pannonius"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/CWScj15goAs\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Janus Pannonius &#8211; Threnody on the death of his mother Barbara (1463)<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Why should I weep? Would it ease my new-found sorrow?<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Today I weep for my mother, the tears are all hers.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>This day will be marked by bitterness for the rest of my life,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Yet though it is bitter, with tears I rejoice in her<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And whether the day finds me on the hot sands of Libya<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Or on the terrifying ice-sheets of the North Pole<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Makes no difference as the brief year turns on its axle,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Since the sun is bound to open my wounds up again<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And bring you to mind, awakening my sense of your grace<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As I pay respects at your tomb in filial devotion.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>My day of mourning, alas, is the Tenth of December.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 How leaden and sad now the marks of your noble bearing<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>For though in life you shone like the sun, its beams ever spotless,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 The vision of you in funereal pomp has darkened the sky.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>My heart is a night bound in fog but aching for light.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Your complexion too is dusky like a day fit for mourning.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Impenetrable cloud obscures the topmost roofs of the sky<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 And earth below cowers under a thick layer of mist.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>There\u2019s no point in denying it\u2019s a day made for funerals,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 No point having a catafalque in gorgeous summer weather,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And it\u2019s not the wet wind from the south that brings us such things<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 The very air mourns as I mourn and keeps me company.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And you, December, are now my very worst enemy.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Why do you beat me so hard and cause me such suffering?<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Was it not enough for you to rob me of my dear Guarino?<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0 See! You have struck me again, piling wound upon wound!<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Oh, you! Of all the year\u2019s twelve yelping children you are the last,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0 And how the Earth hates you, how Heaven too despises you!<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>For you have damaged the light by opening day to the darkness<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 And have driven the Sun\u2019s chariot through a narrower arc.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Your sluggish frosts are a bruise on a planet grown sombre,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Destroying both crops below and the boughs high above us.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>No flock now is nurtured in the rich depths of the meadow,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 No cheerful twittering spreads delight in the cool of the branches.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Nor does it help that wild Turkish horsemen have destroyed the pasture,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Trampled the frozen rivers and broken the ice-paths.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Once upon a time fools thought you a guardian angel.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Far from it! You\u2019re the idol of the dead, a creature from Hades.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>But why should I weep so forlornly when it\u2019s not the month\u2019s fault!<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The earth careers onward, driving fleet-footed time before it.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Perhaps astronomers\u2019 charts are to blame. It must be their fault<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Since fate and my grieving are both governed by the stars.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>It is the heavenly powers that dominate life and death equally,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 While we, the mere mortals, wait for the grave to swallow us,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And for the spark of life to vanish, deserting the body.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 If the bright stars above us serve only for our grieving<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Surely it is better for us to go without stars.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Nor is there any point in offering consolation.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Don\u2019t even try, dear friends. There\u2019ll be time for that later.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Words won\u2019t suffice to heal a grief still so raw.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Wounds that still bleed escape the hand that would heal them.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The agony is so fierce I can\u2019t see an end to it,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>It feels far beyond me, however long the mourning<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And should someone reprove me, and tell me it\u2019s unbecoming,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>That it\u2019s only for faint-hearted women and mothers,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It would show they don\u2019t understand the fearsome power of nature<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And are ignorant of how the ancients often did the same.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 There stood proud Marcius at the limits of graceless Rome<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>His mighty voice silent in mourning for his mother.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sertorius fled to the furthest west, harried from home,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>But his greatest anxiety was for his well-beloved parent.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 When monstrous Etna erupted, spewing fire in every direction<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>The Siculus twins carried their mother\u2019s sacred weight on their shoulders.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0The youth of Argos outdid even the Spartan twins,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Pulling their parents by chariot with themselves in harness.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Nor was it just mothers our forebears treated in this fashion,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Their tender care extended even to their nurses.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The Phrygian hero rescued Bajeta from the fury of battle,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And a stretch of the Latium bank still bears his name.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Romulus rewarded Accius with an annual festival<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>(People believed that the name recalled his wolf mother)<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 The goat that fed him became the star Capella, by grace<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Of Jupiter and still burns bright as a crystal in the night sky.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 And this is how Bacchus too rewarded the work of the Hyades.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>There they are glittering in the Bull\u2019s mouth each spring.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 No-one has claimed that death in old age, should the Lord<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Delay his unavoidable harvest, is any less painful.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 A man of deep feeling does not count years when he mourns,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>But believes that love will never grow feeble in age.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 And should I not mourn you, dear mother, just because you were<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Over the age of sixty at death? Should I not weep for you?<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You carried me in your womb for fully ten circuits of the moon.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>The heavy labour might even have wrought internal damage<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Had not Juno intervened by hurrying to your bedside.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And then you raised your tiny son gently to your warm breast<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And you pressed your nipple to his tender mouth.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>You were always hugging and dandling me in your lap<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As if I were your one child and you hadn\u2019t had two other sons.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Nor did they ever blame me for being your favourite.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Can children be omens, do mothers have visionary powers?<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Or is it that late children are held in special affection?<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Once I was steady on my feet and started to walk<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And to put a few words together, constructing sentences,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You quickly grasped that I was a natural learner<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And should not waste my days in merely childish pursuits.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So you took wool, knitted it and sold it to pay for my tuition<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And, little as I then was, I gave it as fee to my teachers.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 I had hardly begun to savour the fruits of knowledge<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>When I first showed promise and justified your sacrifice.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Your brother then sent me abroad to Italy so I might<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Extend my education \u2013 it was all he desired for me.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 I lived on his allowance and had opportunity to explore<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>The entire Veneto and become a faithful follower of the Muses.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 A whole eleven years I spent there! Such a long time!<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>How you\u2019ll have pined for me in the years that I was away!<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 How often you feared for me and how your heart must have ached!<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And then, once Italy had returned your son to your side,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 And I, still in my youth, was raised to a bishop\u2019s throne,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Was any life as gracious and simple as the home-life<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 You enjoyed at the house I provided for you in old age?<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Even there your chief concern was always our happiness,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 So when your trembling hands had grasped the ball of flex<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Clotho had woven for you, having measured its length,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Knowing at what precise point she would\u00a0 finally cut it,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Our friends and relations came flocking to your bedside,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Great gatherings of women to fill your narrow room,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And young girls wept, remembering how you had helped them,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 And how you had mothered them all. And then, when your daughter<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Still sobbing, closed your dying eyes, and I tried to avoid<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 The women\u2019s wailing and looked to maintain a calm demeanour<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Knowing my own woes would only increase your own,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Not wanting my sighs to trouble yours in your dying<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Even then you did not forget you were my mother.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019m not in pain, you whispered, not when my son is beside me.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Your eyes, though clouded still searching, settled on mine<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 And right to the last my name was on your lips,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>To the moment your soul, like a bird from its nest, thrust into the air,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Leaving your body to grow cold in its still-warm bed.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>But why leave me now, mother, just as my star is rising,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And your own peace and calm look to be assured!<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Don\u2019t go at the moment your child\u2019s career reaches its zenith<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And when you are free of care in the twilight of your years!<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>The virgin sisters you sheltered are now effectively orphans,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 For who will brighten their lives and lead them to safe pastures,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And who will enrich their tender minds in the way you would?<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Is anyone else as fitted to nurture their maidenly virtues?<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>And see this monument, evidence of our great sense of loss:<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 It\u2019s not some vainglorious artefact, the engraver\u2019s masterpiece,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Nor an ostentatious mausoleum full of vaulting ambition,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Nor a marble obelisk whose apex might pierce the clouds.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>The clouds are merely of incense, the sound that of a chorus<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Lamenting, the song full of sadness and high trembling voices.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>A magnificent procession precedes the coffin that bears you,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 The church-bells rang clear and loud in their tall towers.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Candles in hundreds on hundreds flicker on countless altars<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 And every church in the city resounds with its own form of requiem.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>I have donned the priestly vestments in which I am to perform<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 The mystical rites by my mother\u2019s sepulchre.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>If heaven is indeed for the meek I am perfectly certain that you<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Have already entered the domain of the blessed.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>You lived without sin, you went about your work and completed it.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Fulfilling your obligations both to man and to God.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>You faithfully kept your late husband\u2019s memory, the proof<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Of which is the veil you have worn ever since his death<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Twenty-three rainy autumns ago, each autumn seeing you shrouded<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In widow\u2019s weeds, meditating on his passing.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>In the land of the ancient Romans you exemplified the widow\u2019s life<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 And would have deserved that rare crown: the laurel of virtue,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>The dignity of your exemplary life crowned by exemplary death.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 No death can be counted bad when the life has been humane.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>You have perfectly performed all that holy writ can demand:<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 The prison gates fly open, the starry skies await you.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>The sky is yours, mother, blessed among women, heaven\u2019s citizen!<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 May your prayers continue to protect your errant son.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>We will see each other again when heaven sees fit to arrange it.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Heaven and earth resound with the high fanfares of angels.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Sleep on then, mother, untroubled in your grave, till that time,<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>\u00a0\u00a0 Let the stones of the crypt not weigh heavy on your bones.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>(Translation by George Szirtes)<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The soundtrack of the Threnos Oratory will be available soon at iASK!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":41,"featured_media":16356,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[239,113,38,107],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v16.7 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Encore! - Alberto Roque Santana: Threnos, de morte Barbarae matris \u2013 Oratorio based on a poem by Janus Pannonius - iASK - Institute of Advanced Studies K\u0151szeg<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/archive.iask.hu\/hu\/hogy-volt-pannonia-hangjai-oratoriumi-osbemutato-es-bartok-zenei-univerzuma-szombathelyen\/\" \/>\n<meta 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