The soprano Monika Mauch and Les Escapades have produced a video as part of the City of Karlsruhe's "Corona Pause Project".
The musical greetings from the Old Catholic Church in Karlsruhe are under the motto of the Elslein song "...how I wish I were with you!" - in the hope that live concerts will soon be possible again.
Henry Purcell (1659 - 1695) Catch: Of all the instruments
This canon tells us that no instrument can be compared to the viola da gamba (=viol). The different sounds of the strings are depicted onomatopoeically.
Of all the instruments that are none with the Viol can compare.
Mark how the strings keep their order with a "whet" and a "sweep",
but above all ,this still abounds, with a "zingle zing" and a "zit zan zounds".
Robert Johnson (c. 1580 - 1633) The Temporiser
From the Glogau Songbook (c. 1480) Elslein, liebstes Elselein
Ludwig Senfl (1490 - 1543) Ah Elslein, dear Elselein
The four-part movement by Ludwig Senfl is probably the oldest version of the "Elslein" song.
It was very popular and underwent numerous receptions over the centuries.
| Ah Elslein, dear Elslein mine, How I wish I were with you! Thus flow two deep waters Between you and me, I guess. | That brings me great pain, Dearest Gsell! I speak from the heart have it for big Ungefäll. | Hoff, time it will probably end, Hope, happiness will come, Use yourself in all the good things, dearest Elselein. |
Michael East (c. 1580 - 1648) Polyhymnia from The Muses
John Dowland (1563 - 1626) Flow my tears - Lachrymae Antiquae
"No night is dark enough for those who desperately mourn their lost happiness". In the Elizabethan age, (16th/17th century) it was fashionable to indulge in cultivated "melancholy". During this period, "Flow my tears", originally composed by John Dowland as a lute song, enjoyed great popularity. "Lachrimae Antiquae" is the first of a total of 8 different "tear" versions from Dowland's pen.
Flow, my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled for ever, let me mourn;
Where night's black bird her sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorn.Down vain lights, shine you no more!
No nights are dark enough for those
That in despair their lost fortunes deplore.
Light doth but shame disclose.Never may my woes be relieved,
Since pity is fled;
And tears and sighs and groans my weary days
Of all joys have deprived.From the highest spire of contentment
My fortune is thrown;
And fear and grief and pain for my deserts
Are my hopes, since hope is gone.
Hark! you shadows that in darkness dwell,
Learn to contemn light
Happy, happy they that in hell
Feel not the world's despite.
Flow, my tears, flow from your sources,
Banished forever: let me mourn.
Where the black bird of the night is
Singing gloomy song, there let me be lonely.Extinguished, you dim lights, shine no more!
No night is dark enough for those,
Who desperately mourn their lost happiness,
The light only reveals their shame.Never can my suffering be eased
Since all compassion has disappeared,
And tears and sighing and lamentations have made my hard days
Robbed of all joy.
From the highest peak of satisfaction
Was my luck dashed down
And fear and grief and pain in this loneliness
are my hopes, because hope has passed away
Hark, ye shadows that dwell in darkness,
Learn to despise the light!
Happy, happy are those who are in hell
Not feel the torments of this world.
Anonymous, attributed to Heinrich Scheidemann (1595 - 1663)
Pavana Lachrymae after Dowland
Thomas Tomkins (1572 - 1656) Alman
Henry Purcell from the opera "The fairy Queen If love's a sweet passion
If love's a sweet passion why does it torment?
If a bitter, oh tell me, whence comes my content?
Since I suffer with pleasure, why should I complain,
or grieve at my fate, when I know t'is in vain?
Yet so pleasing the pain is as soft as the dart,
That at once it both wounds me and tickles my heart.
I press her hand gently, look languishing down,
and by passionate silence I make my love known.
But oh! How I'm blest when so kind she does prove,
by some willing mistake to discover all her love.
When in striving to hide, she reveals her flame,
and our eyes tell each other what neither dares name.
If love is a sweet passion, why does it torment us?
If it hurts like this, oh tell me, where does my contentment come from?
Since I suffer with joy, why should I complain? Or mourn my fate, when I know that it is in vain.
It is a pleasant pain, as soft as the arrow,
that both hurts me and touches my heart.
I gently squeeze her hand and feel weak;
And in my silent passion I make myself aware of my love.
Oh! How blessed I am that she challenges me so graciously,
to discover their love in this way.
The more I try to hide it, the more she reveals her burning love to me.
And our eyes tell us what we dare not say.