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Radúz and Mahulena
Translations © by Patrick John Corness
Song Cycle by Josef Suk (1874 - 1935)
View original-language texts alone: Radúz a Mahulena
A Slovak fairy tale in four acts in the words of Julius Zeyer Piano score with text edited by Roman Veselý. Dramatis Personae Stojmír, King of Tatra Runa, his consort Prija, Živa, Mahulena, their daughters Radúz, Prince of Magura Queen Nyola, his mother Radovid, an old servant of Radúz Přibina, confidant of Stojmír Vratko, a woodcutter Populace of Magura and Tatra, youths and maidens, royal retinue
Jednání prvé a proměna druhého na štítech Tater, jednání druhé v zahradě krále Stojmíra, jednání třetí s proměnou a čtvrté v Maguře. Jsem pohádka. Kdo za mnou půjde, povedu jej do modrých krajů báje. Zde s těchto olbřímých štítů po starých cestách, mechem porostlých a listím dávných jesení zavátých, sestoupím dolů, tam v slunné nivy slovenského lidu. Znám tůně jeho duše, a pradávné jeho sny v mém nitru žijou. Vždyť stála jsem u jeho kolébky! Závojem čarným obestírám děje věků zapadlých do mlžin paměti. Pod třpytem jeho řas však ty dávné lidské touhy křídla svoje rozpínají a lidská něha plá zpod jeho záhybů a lidské slzy tekou lesklou jeho tkaninou a vroucí, věčně lidská srdce bijou, tu vášnivě, tu snivě pod krytem jeho volně vlajícím... Vzhůru!... Po starých cestách hučícími lesy, kol mořských ok vás v tichou Slovač povedu. Mým závojem ji uvidíte, rodnou sestru arijského toho lidu, jenž pije z Gangy. Ta Slovač, kterou uvidíte, turanské jařmo ještě nenese, ta nezná ještě žal, jenž nyní let už tisíc proráží nebesa tak bez proměny, jak věčné její hory v blankyt strmí. Barnavé mračno těžkých osudů stín ještě nevrhá na slunné stráně, kde tráva větrem vlní se a jasné vody tryskají. Lid volný žije ještě v horách volných. Však nesvár přec už svoji zhoubu koná. Dvě knížata se v záští potýkali, než zrozen Radúz byl a Mahulena, o jejichž strastech vám dnes povím vše... Jsem pohádka a rodná sestra oněch, jež Ganga kojila, i těch, co na iránské vysočině snily, kde nejjasnější hvězdy hoří, i těch, co v skandinávských divočinách půlnoční rudé slunce znaly, i těch, co v řeckých hájích vedle dávných moří v bílých chrámech z mramoru jak vlaštovice hnízdily, i posléz těch, co v mračných doubravách, kde druidi bledou lunu ctili, kol šedých menhirů své reje křepčily... Jsem pohádka... Dým mystický se nese přede mnou, a za mnou duje vítr pravěký... Kdo za mnou chodí, vidí dávné sudic předivo... Co dnes však uzří, to prosté je jako srdce mého lidu, je prosté, jako jeho tiché chatky pod zelenými grúněmi. Je chatka mého lidu prostá, věru — však zlatý věnec tam leží pod prahem: čar je to jeho vroucí básnivosti!...
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Act I. Prologue", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Note: this is a prose text. Line-breaks have been added.
Researcher for this page: Patrick John Corness
Act One and the change of scene in Act Two take place in the peaks of the Tatra mountains, Act Two in the garden of King Stojmír, Act Three (including the change of scene) and Act Four in Magura. I am a fairy tale. If you come with me, I will lead you to azure lands of ancient lore. From these towering peaks, tracing ancient pathways overgrown with moss and deep in leaves of autumns past, I will descend to yonder sunny meadows of the Slovak folk. I am familiar with the still depths of their soul and their primeval dreams live on within me. For I was present at their cradle! Beneath my magic veil I enshroud the events of the ages lost in the mists of time immemorial. But beneath its glittering folds ancient human yearnings take flight, the warmth of human tenderness glowing within it as human tears flow over its lustrous fabric, and ardent human hearts beat eternally, now passionately, now drowsily beneath the shelter of its freely waving… On we go!… Following old pathways, through humming forests, past lakes, I will lead you to the peaceful Slovač. Through my veil you will see it, the true sister of that Aryan folk that drinks from the Ganges. That Slovač you will see does not yet bear the Mongol yoke; it does not yet know the sorrow that for a thousand years has sundered the heavens, unceasingly, as its ageless mountain peaks reach to the azure sky. The dark brown clouds of cruel fates do not yet cast their shadow on the sunny hillsides, where the grass waves in the wind, and pure waters spring forth. The free people still live in the free hills. Yet the scourge of discord is already at work. Two princes were locked in a struggle before the birth of Radúz and Mahulena, of whose sorrows I will relate all to you today… I am a fairy tale and the true sister of those who were suckled by the Ganges, those who dreamt on the Iranian heights, where the brightest stars are aflame, those who knew the fiery red midnight sun in the Scandinavian wilderness, those who made their nests like swallows in Grecian groves by ancient seas in white marble temples, and subsequently those who in dim oak groves where Druids revered the pale moon, intoned their rituals around grey menhirs … I am a fairy tale…. A mystical cloud rolls on before me, and behind me the primeval wind blows. … If you come with me, you will see the ancient fabric of the goddesses of fate… But what you will see today is as simple as my people’s heart, it is as simple as their peaceful, modest dwellings beneath green pastures. My people’s dwellings are simple, indeed, yet a golden wreath lies there on the threshold; it is the magic of its stirring poetic gift!…
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Tři byly sestry, co se rády měly, a přece se jak ptáci rozletěly, jedna je za Váhem a druhá za Dunajem a třetí bloudí, plačíc, kdesi za šuhajem!... Radúz: Co tasíš, Radovide, meč? Ten není nebezpečný. Radovid: Tak zdá se, věru. (Vratko vstoupí.) Tři byly sestry — (zahlédnuv Radúza a Radovida, mluví) Buďte zdrávi!
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Vratko's Song", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
There were three sisters, devoted sisters true, as birds they flew away, far away they flew, one’s beyond the Váh, one beyond Blue Danube river, while the third wanders weeping, searching for her lover!... Radúz: Why brandish your sword, Radovid? He is not dangerous. Radovid: So it seems, indeed. (Enter Vratko) There were three sisters — (catching sight of Radúz and Radovid, he speaks). Good day!
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- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Sbor jinochů Hoja lalja hoja! Letíme pávi z daleka, hoja lalja hoja, přes hory, lesy, jezera, hoja lalja hoja. Zde porosena niva je, hoja lalja hoja, zde odpočinou perutě, hoja lalja hoja! Sbor dívek Hoja lalja hoja! Labutě modrem veslujem, hoja lalja hoja, a plujem s bílým oblakem, hoja lalja hoja, pod námi luka, jeden květ! Hoja lalja hoja, tam odpočinou perutě, hoja lalja hoja! Jeden z jinochů Jaké to labutě v té zelené dubině? Třpytí se perutě padlý jak sníh! Jedna z dívek Jací to pávi jsou v šumivém háji? Pohleďte, labutě, jak se jim perutě jiskrami třpytí! Jeden z jinochů Každá z těch labutí v zelené dubině korunu nosí, chvaťme je, chvaťme je, mezi ně, mezi ně, hoja lalja hoja!
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Game of swans and peacocks", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Chorus of youths Ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya! We peacocks fly here from afar, ho-ya lal-ya, ho-ya, over hills, woods, and lakes we soar, ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya. Here the dew is on the meadow, ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya, here our wings we’ll be resting now, ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya! Chorus of maidens Ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya! We swans in blue skies are rowing, ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya, with the white clouds we are floating, ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya, below us meadows, all in bloom! Ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya, there our wings we will all rest some, ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya! One youth See those swans that wander in the green oak grove yonder? Their wings sparkle brighter than driven snow! One maiden See those peacocks that rove in the humming grove? See, the swans, see the swans, their wings sparkling, so fine, in the bright sunshine! One youth Each of those swans that rove yon in the green oak grove is wearing a crown, let’s catch them, let’s catch them, after them, after them, ho-ya lal-ya ho-ya!
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- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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(Mahulena blíží se pomalu Radúzovi.) Radúz (Přibinovi): Veďte mne. (Uvidí Mahulenu, stojící teď vedle něho.) Ty posud, panno, mlčelas a nerouhala jsi se mému neštěstí. Teď vynahradíš, co jsi zmeškala? Mahulena: Ty žízníš? Radúz: Proč se tážeš? Mahulena (nabere vody do dlaně): Pij! (Zvedne dlaň až k jeho rtům) Radúz: Já nemohu... Mně rty se chvějou jako srdce moje ... nad tvojí dobrotou... Já jako mlhou viděl tě, jak stála’s opodál, a úzkostí jsem zmíral, že budeš také zlá… jak byly ony dvě... Ó, vysměj se mi! Mahulena: Radúze, smát se—když pláču! Radúz: Proč pláčeš, rci… Mahulena: Že více nemohu než plakati!... Radúz: Ó, nikdy rosa světější nepršela s nebes, než ta, co padá nyní s blankytu tvých očí! Kdo jsi? Mahulena: Jsem Mahulena... Král je můj otec... Ó, Radúze, neměj ho příliš v nenávisti… můžeš-li! Runa (za scénou): Kde meškáš, Mahuleno? Mahulena (lekne se): Hlas matčin! (Radúzovi) Ó, netrap se mi příliš... duše moje! (odejde) Přibina: Pojď, pane! Splním, co mi král můj kázal, ač nerad, věř. Radúz: Mahulena! (odchází zamyšlen s Přibinou a ostatními) Opona
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Melodrama", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
(Mahulena slowly approaches Radúz) Radúz: (to Pribina): Lead me on. (Sees Mahulena, now standing next to him) Young lady, you have so far kept silent, not objecting to my misfortune. Will you make up for that now? Mahulena: Are you thirsty? Radúz: Why do you ask? Mahulena (collecting water in the palms of her hands): Drink! (Raises her hands to his lips) Radúz: I cannot… My lips are trembling, as is my heart…over your kindness… I saw you as in a cloud of mist, as you stood nearby, and I was dying of anxiety at the thought that you would be as spiteful as the other two… Go on, mock me! Mahulena: Mock you, Radúz, when I am weeping?! Radúz: Say, why do you weep? Mahulena: I can do nothing else but weep!… Radúz: Oh, no holier dew ever fell from the heavens than that falling now from your bright blue eyes! Who are you? Mahulena: I am Mahulena… The king is my father… Oh, Radúz, try not to hate him too much… if you can! Runa (off-stage): What keeps you, Mahulena? Mahulena (alarmed): My mother’s voice! (to Radúz): Oh, do not suffer too much… my dear soul! (Exits) Přibina: Come, sire! I must do what my king orders, though unwillingly, I swear! Radúz: Mahulena! (Exits, deep in thought, with Pribina and the others) Curtain
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- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Subtitle: Slovenská lidová
Mahulena: …Zpívávala jsem, tak se mi zdá. Kam odlétly ty moje staré písně? (mlčí, za chvíli počne tiše zpívat.) Těch dvanáct panen změnilo se v holubice a sedly na javor, žalostně vrkajíce a pravily: kdo velké naše hoře by prozradil, ať oněmí… (mluví) Ne, tak to není… Či snad přece… Nač ale zpívat? Ach, raděj chtěla bych na světě nebýt... nebýt … (Propukne v tichý pláč. Vratko blíží se nesměle plačící Mahuleně.)
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Act II. Mahulena’s Song", subtitle: "A Slovak folk song", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Mahulena: …I used to sing often, I think. Whither have those old songs of mine flown away? (she falls silent, then after a while begins to sing softly.) All the twelve maidens changed and all turning into doves settled on a maple, cooing, cooing their lament: anyone who tells the tale of our lost loves and our sad grief shall be struck dumb… (she speaks) No, that isn’t it... Perhaps it is… But why sing? Ah, I would rather not be of this world… oh no... (She begins softly weeping. Vratko hesitantly approaches sobbing Mahulena.)
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Subtitle: "A Slovak folk song"
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Line count: 14
Word count: 96
Mahulena: … tak jak v té staré písni. (Mlčí a za chvíli zpívá tiše) Pod stromem seděla a dlouho čekala. On nepřicházel, nepřicházel, plakala, když slzy vyschly, mroucím hlasem děla: mně teskno tak, jako bych zemřít měla! ... Ta píseň smutná je. Kdo ji as vymyslil? Snad vskutku se tak někdy dělo... Ale tomu dávno asi je. Nač si to myslím?... To proto snad—že mi tak k smrti teskno... (Položí si hlavu v klín) Opona
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Act III. Mahulena’s Song", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Mahulena: … in the words of that old song. (She falls silent, then after a while starts softly singing) Beneath a tree she did sit, waited hours on end. But he did not come, he did not come, and she cried. She complained mournfully, once her tears had dried: I think I’m about to die, I am so sad!… This is a sad song. I wonder who wrote it. Perhaps it really happened one day... But that must be a long time ago. Why do I think that?... Because — I’m sad as though about to die. (She rests her head in her lap) Curtain
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Nyola: Ó, Radúze, teď ani slova víc! Již otce tvého nesou k hranici — O, Radúze! (Objeví se dvořanstvo v smutku, nesou na marách mrtvého krále pod příkrovem.) Radúz: Ó, těžká, temná, hrozná hodino!... Postavte máry, ach, a popřejte mi, bych jednou ještě zlíbal jeho tvář a ruku. Otče, otče můj!
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Solemn Music", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Nyola: O Radúz, now don’t say another word! Your father’s being carried to the pyre — O, Radúz! (The nobility appear in mourning, carrying the dead king on a covered bier.) Radúz: O terrible, dreadful hour of darkness!... Set down the bier, ah, and permit me one last time to kiss his cheek and his hand. O, father, my father!
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Mahulena: Radúze můj… Teď zapadá můj svět!... (Radúz, Nyola a celý průvod odcházejí.) Mahulena: (slabě) Ach, Radúze! (padne na tvář) (Průvod pohřební zmizí; na jevišti mrtvý klid, pak pokračuje se ve hře bez ohledu na to, kdy vzdalující se smuteční hudba dozní.)
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Melodrama", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Mahulena: My dear Radúz… Now my whole world is fading away!... (Radúz, Nyola and the entire procession depart.) Mahulena: (feebly) Ah, Radúz! (she falls on her face) (The funeral procession disappears; deathly silence reigns on stage; then the play continues even after the mournful music ceases.)
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- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Mahulena: Teď ale v hlavě dělá se mi divná mha... (Vstane) A nohy moje do půdy se boří… Co to je?... Ó, sladký sne, jenž sedáš na víčka… už vidím vše jen šedým soumrakem... Co údy moje divně křehnou tak?... Vše mizí, mizí … jen ta bolest zde, kde srdce posud tlouklo... Ó, to je smrt? V mé paměti jak mouchy bzučení… toť slovo nějaké... (Slaběji a slaběji) Radúz... Radúz... Radúz... (Mezi koncem řeči mění se Mahulena v štíhlý topol, v němž podoba její se ztrácí úplně, listy stromu ševelí a v šumu jejich zmírá pomalu slovo „Radúz".) Opona
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Melodrama", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Mahulena: But now I feel a strange mist in my head... (She rises) And my feet are rooted in the ground… What is this?... O sweet dream, resting on my eyelids… now I see it all as in a grey twilight… Why do my limbs turn so strangely numb?... Everything is disappearing, disappearing… only that pain is left, here, where my heart used to beat… O, is this death? In my memory there is a kind of buzzing of flies … it is some word... (Fainter and fainter) Radúz.., Radúz... Radúz… (As her speech is coming to an end, Mahulena turns into a slender poplar tree and her likeness disappears altogether, the leaves on the tree rustle and they gradually muffle the word “Radúz.”) Curtain
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- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Sbor Ó, mladosti, jsi jako zlatý pták, co vzlétl zoře vstříc, křídloma třepotaje, a dole tmí se les, barnavý mrak, kam brzy dopadneš! V života truchlé taje se ponoříš, a třeba mihotaje se vlastní obraz tvému ještě zjeví zraku— ó, marně po něm sáhneš! Padá do soumraku, jenž minulostí sluje. Ó, mladosti, proč krátká tak tvá vesna, když stesk tak dlouhý po zbuzení ze sna? Žel, mladosti, že pluje tvá nav tak rychle, tak uniká zraku! Ó, žel, že zachází vše do soumraku, vše do soumraku! (Při pomalu doznívajících zvucích písně té vychází měsíc, osvětluje zahradu, kmen stromu Mahulenina stává se průhledným, je dívku v něm viděti, zdá se jako v polosnu. Listí zašelestí jako silnějším příbojem větru a dívka mluví jako ve vidění.)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Act IV. O my youth, you are like a golden bird", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Chorus O my youth, you are like a golden bird, flying up towards the dawn star, its wings a-tremble, the forest below in dark gloom covered, where soon you will find yourself! In life’s secrets mournful you’ll be immersed, and perhaps just now and then your own image will be visible to you again— o, you will reach out in vain! In the dark it’s soon gone, the darkness they call the past. O youth, why is thy springtime so soon over, when languor on awakening does linger? Woe, youth, your craft sails so fast, at such a pace that to view it is lost! O, woe that all vanishes into darkness, all into darkness! (As this song fades away, the moon rises, illuminating the garden, and the trunk of Mahulena’s tree becomes transparent. The girl is visible within it, apparently half asleep. The leaves rustle as if blown by a powerful gust of wind and the girl speaks as in a vision.)
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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- a text in Czech (Čeština) by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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This text was added to the website: 2023-11-08
Line count: 23
Word count: 163
Mahulena: Mé srdce krvavý je květ. Co bolí mě, co bolí? Proč stále chvěju se? Nad hlavou mou když mračna táhnou, za nimi bych chtěla— nevím proč a kam. Má touha jako moje větve pne se věčně do dálky… Tam ale k tomu domu toužím přede vším, kam můj stín padá … A tak mé srdce stále bolí a stále kape z něho krev... Jsou ptáci sladcí hosté, na ruce moje ztuhlé sedají a zpívají... snad by mě konejšili, kdyby ten květ, ten krvavý, to srdce stále nebolelo mě... Ach! … Jak z hluboka ta matka země dýše... Jak z hluboka to ohvězděné nebe... To divno je, já dřív nevěděla, že také dýšou! Proč ale matka zem drží mě pevně tak? Já myslila, když vítr zalomcoval mnou, že snad mě porazí, že ruce moje zláme … On však pouze listy oderval, ty svadlé listy, které padaly jak moje slzy … někdy... nevím kdy... Pak napad' sníh a přišla dřímota, ale to srdce stále krvácelo... A přišla vesna, nové listy zas a mladí ptáci s písní starou, věčnou a vše se kolem měnilo... Je smavě tak, a matka země dýše tak silně, plna něhy... Ale moje srdce, květ krvavý, to stále bolí, bolí, bolí... O, ó!...
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- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "My heart is a bleeding flower", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Mahulena: My heart is a bleeding flower. What causes this pain that I feel? Why do I keep trembling? Above my head, dark clouds seem to be moving and I want to follow them— I know not why or where. My longing, like my branches, reaches eternally into the distance… But I long most of all for the home where my shadow falls... And so my heart ceaselessly pains me and it constantly drips blood... The birds are kind guests, resting on my benumbed arms and singing… I think they would comfort me if that flower covered in blood, my heart, did not constantly pain me… Ah!… How deeply mother earth breathes… How deep is the starry sky… Strange that I never knew the elements breathe too! But why does mother earth hold me so firmly? When the wind made me sway wildly, I thought it would fell me, that it would break my arms... But it just tore away my leaves, those faded leaves that once fell as my tears… once… I know not when… Then it snowed and I became drowsy, though my heart continued to bleed… Then spring came, new leaves again and young birds with their old, eternal song and everything around me was changing... All is joyful and mother earth breathes deeply, full of grace... But my heart, a blood-soaked flower, still pains me, pains me so… O, o!…
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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This text was added to the website: 2023-11-13
Line count: 34
Word count: 234
Nyola: …Hle! Radúz! Bloudí zahradou, má plnou náruč květů. Jako ve snách chodí. Ustupme sem a pozorujme ho! (Zajdou za skupinu bříz) (Radúz přichází somnambulně) Radúz: Sivá holubice sedí na mohyle a žaluje! V té mohyle je její štěstí pochováno… Proč na mě obrací krotké svoje oči… proč vyčítají mi ty smutné zraky? V nějaké písni také o tom pějí, že holubice krotká křivdu nepáchala, že seděla na skále a že pila vodu— a přec ji zardousili... Ach, též ke mně bílá, zdá se mi, že vznášela se holubice krotkých zraků… Ne, dívka jakás stála v děsné poušti a vodu zprahlým rtům podávala v dlani... a já ji zardousil! Ó, hrozné přízraky… A nikde pokoje a nikde klidu a stále tesknota a lživé vidiny! Vždyť přece pravda není, že jsem spáchal to... či přece?... (Klekne před stromem) Jen zde, jen zde je tomu trudu úleva! Zde jedině je sladký spánek možným! Ty šeptající, drahý topole, ó, konejši mne zase! Hle, vonnou nesu tobě oběť… (Zdobí strom) Tam v domě smutno tak a pusto, u tebe však je blaze. Má země matka mnoho, mnoho dětí, má lidi, zvířata a rostliny. Rostliny ale jsou jí nejmilejší, ty drží pevně, pevně na ňadrech a nepustí je nikdy! Jak ušlechtilé dítě její jsi, ty šepotavý, útlý topole, ty zadumaný strome, plný něhy, neb vím, že pouze něhou chvěješ se, ne strachem jako lidé. Ó, přej mi, abych ubohou svou hlavu podepříti směl o tvůj štíhlý kmen, a šeptej mi a šeptej, topole... (Sedne pod strom a podepírá o něj hlavu)
Authorship:
- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Melodrama", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Nyola: …Look! Radúz! He’s wandering in the garden, with an armful of flowers. He’s walking as in a dream. Let us stand aside and observe him from here! (They move behind a grove of birch trees) (Enter Radúz, sleepwalking) Radúz: A grey dove sits on a grave, mourning! Its happiness is buried in that grave… Why does it turn its admonishing gaze towards me?... Why do those sad eyes observe me reproachfully? Again, in some song, they sing that the gentle dove had done no wrong, sitting on the rock drinking water— and yet they stifled her… Ah, I imagine a white dove flying towards me…its gentle gaze... No, a girl standing in the grim desert offered me water for my parched lips in her open palms… and I stifled her! O, horrible spectres… Nowhere peace, nowhere calm, always longing and mendacious hallucinations! After all it is not true that I did that deed... Or is it? … (He kneels before the tree). Only here, only here is there respite from that grief! Only here is peaceful sleep possible! Dear whispering poplar, o, console me once more! See, I bring you a fragrant offering… (he decorates the tree) There in the house is but sadness and emptiness, while here with you there is blessed happiness. Mother earth has many, many children; she has people, creatures and plants. But most of all she favours plants; she holds them firmly, firmly to her breast and never, never lets them go! You are like her noble child, o slender whispering poplar, o pensive tree full of grace, for I know your swaying comes only from your tenderness, not from fear, as it is with people. O, grant me to rest my poor head on your slender trunk, and whisper to me, whisper, dear poplar... (He sits, resting his head against the foot of the tree)
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Word count: 315
Radovid: Jak podivně se zachvěl nyní strom. Mně jest, jak by se něco díti mělo. Nyola: Pozorujme tedy tiše! (Strom se stává průhledným, šelestí, a Mahulena, v něm viditelná, mluví.) Mahulena: Celá má bytost silněji se zachvívá a v bolest moji se mísí sladkost nevýslovná. Toť on, toť on, po němž tak nesmírně vždy toužím, žízním, prahnu! Mha paměti mé vyjasňuje se a zase vím, čím jsem a jak se jmenuji! To Radúz je, u nohou leží mých, jak v lese dávno, dávno! O peň můj hlavu plavou opírá a dechem jeho třese se mé srdce obolené, raněné až k smrti. Toť on, toť on! To všechny hvězdy nebes spršely mi k nohám s výše!... Nad ním se sklánět, jaká blaženost! Zaplakat nad ním, jaká útěcha! Ó, žel, že více není dáno mi! Kdybych to sladké jméno vykřiknouti mohla v hvězdnou noc!... Ach, uslyšev hlas můj láskou prochvělý, vzpamatoval by se, to vím, to vím! Však promluviti s ním, to dáno není mi, jen když tělo jeho ve snách tone, tu duch můj mluvit může k jeho duchu— ale když probudí se, zapomene hned, co se mu snilo, a odejde, a hned i já zas klesám v rostlinnou svou dřímotu! Jak jiskra v popel, padá jméno jeho mně a moje jemu v nepamět! Jaký to žal, jaký to žal! Nyola: Šum toho stromu hrůzou plní mě! Mně zdá se, jako lidský hlas bych slyšela v tom šelestu! Má ruka jímá mimoděk už sekyru— pusť, Radovide, pusť mě, překazím ten čar! Radovid: Ne, královno, pro lásku svoji k Radúzovi, stůj! Cos šeptá mi, že bys jej usmrtila! Hleď na tu bledou jeho tvář, tak bíle osvětlenou lunou, teď jako úsměv cos mu bloudí kolem úst, úsměv tak snivý a plný štěstí! Mahulena: Ó, hvězdo moje utěšená, tělesného pouta zbaven, Radúze můj sladký, drahý, schopen jsi teď slyšet můj hlas a rozuměti, co duše moje duši šeptá tvé! Cítíš ve snách rosu stromu na své čelo padat? To moje něhy plné slzy jsou, ó, Raduze! A v sladkém bolu skláním větve svoje nad tebou, vanutí nyvé noci napomáhá mi… Má hvězdo utěšená, jsem tvoje Mahulena, slyšíš? Tvoje Mahulena jsem! Té strašné kletby tíž teď sňata na okamžik s nás, jsou zase svoji, svazkem sna, Radúz a Mahulena! Radúz (ze sna): Ó, sladké jméno, jako šelest stromu! Tak tedy přece vrátilo jsi se v mou chabou paměť! Teď všechno, všechno vím... Na štítu stojím hory... Ty přicházíš, má spáso! (Vznáší ruce do prázdna) Ó, zadržím tě, zadržím… už nikdy, nikdy neunikneš mi s mou chorou pamětí… Mahulena: Utiš se, má duše přemilá! Utiš se a slyš! Je spása tobě možná! Když nejsi blízko mne, jsem v dřímotě a více rostlinou než tvorem lidským! Však v polovědomí tom podivném mám matné vidiny a slyším hlasy, jež lidské ucho nikdy neslýchá! Jest zvířatům a rostlinám a hvězdám mnoho zvěstno, co nepochopno člověku. Ze země, naší matky, blahé zvěsti stále stoupají, prorocké věštby, jimž zasvěcený pouze rozumí... Jak míza z kořenů podivně cos hrne se mi někdy k srdci, k hlavě, z nejhlubších hlubin země věštící… Radúze, takto vím, co matka moje klnoucí nám zamlčela, vím, že paměť tvoji chorou zhojit může moje krev! Slyšíš? Moje krev! Jak ráda vylila bych ji všechnu pro tvou spásu, Radúze! Však nemohu, jsem ztuhlá jako kámen, jen vítr vládne mnou, ne vůle moje! Ó, zraň mě, zraň mě, Radúze můj sladký! Ó, vezmi ji tu krev a zhojen buď! Radúze, vzbuď se, vzbuď a vezmi lék svůj, všechnu mého srdce krev! Radúz: Ó, strašná slova... Mahuleno, Mahuleno! (Zbudí se prudce. Strom se zatmí.) Mahulena (mroucím hlasem): Ach!... Radúz (vyskočí): Sny plny hrůzy... Krev. krev její? Koho? To jméno… ach, zas uhaslo jak jiskra, kterou zašlápneš... Ó, strašná bolest v hlavě!... Zde byla myšlenka, zde za tím čelem... A uletěla zas, zas prázdno, zde a pusto! Ó, bole přeukrutný! Žal a běda! (Vrhne se na zem) Nyola: Můj synu Radúze!
Authorship:
- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Melodrama", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Radovid: How strangely the tree just trembled. I have a feeling something is about to happen. Nyola: Let’s keep quiet then, and observe! (The tree becomes transparent; it rustles, and Mahulena, visible within, speaks.) Mahulena: My whole being trembles more intensely and my pain is alloyed with indescribable pleasure. This is he, the one for whom I always long so deeply, thirst and pine! The fog in my mind is clearing and once again I know what I am and what is my name! This is Radúz, lying at my feet as in the forest long, long ago! He rests his fair head against my tree trunk, his breathing makes my painful, mortally wounded heart tremble. It is he, it is he! All the stars in the sky have rained down at my feet from above!... To bend down over him is such delight! Weeping over him, such relief! O woe, that this I am no longer granted! If only I could call out his sweet name into the starry night!... Ah, having heard my voice, trembling with love, he would be revived; I know it, I know it! But I may not speak with him; only when his body is dissolved in dreams can my soul speak to his— but as soon as he awakes, he forgets at once of what he dreamt; he departs and once more I fall into my botanical drowsiness! As a spark becomes ash, his name is lost to oblivion, as is mine for him. O woe, o woe! Nyola: The rustling of this tree fills me with horror! I seem to hear a human voice when it starts! My hand instinctively seizes the axe— let me do it, Radovid, let me do it; I’ll break that spell! Radovid: No, Majesty, for the sake of your love for Radúz, stop! Something whispers to me that you would kill him! Look at his pale face, all white in the moonlight, a faint smile playing on his lips, a dreamy smile full of happiness! Mahulena: O my delightful star, you are freed of physical bonds, my dear darling Radúz; you are now able to hear my voice and to understand what my soul whispers to yours! Dreaming, do you feel on your brow the dew falling from the tree? These are my tears, full of tenderness, o my Radúz! In sweet agony I incline my branches above you, assisted by the languishing night-time breeze… My delightful star, I am your Mahulena, do you hear me? I am your Mahulena! The burden of that dreadful curse is now lifted from us for an instant; we are together again, joined in our dreams, Radúz and Mahulena! Radúz (in his dreams): O sweet name, like the rustling of the tree! So you are after all restored to my feeble memory! Now I know all, I know all... I stand on the mountain peak… You arrive, my salvation! (He raises his arms in empty space) O, I’ll hold you fast, I’ll hold you… now never, never more will you evade my feeble memory… Mahulena: Hush now, my dearest soul! Hush now and listen! You can be saved! When you are not near me, I am drowsy and I am more tree than human! Yet in this strange semi-consciousness I see hazy visions and I hear voices that a human ear never hears! Creatures and plants and stars know many things unintelligible to humans. From our mother earth continue to emerge joyful tidings and prophesies that only the initiated comprehend... Like sap from the roots, something rushes strangely to my heart and to my head, bearing tidings from the depths of the earth... Radúz, now I know what my mother’s spell kept from us. I know that my blood can heal your sick memory! Do you hear? My blood! How gladly I would spill it all for your salvation, my Radúz! But I cannot; I am benumbed like a stone, stirred only by the wind, not by my own will! O, wound me, wound me, my dearest Radúz! O, take it, take this blood and be saved! Radúz, awake, awake and take your cure, take all the blood in my heart! Radúz: O, what dreadful words… Mahulena, Mahulena! (He suddenly awakes. The tree darkens) Mahulena (in a deathly voice): Ah!... Radúz (leaping to his feet): Dreams full of horror… Blood, her blood? Whose blood? That name… ah, it has faded away again as a spark trodden on… O, such pain in my head!... There was a thought here, behind this brow... But it has flown away again, once more all is empty and deserted! O, such unbearable pain! Woe is me! (He throws himself to the ground) Nyola: My son, Radúz!
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in Czech (Čeština) by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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This text was added to the website: 2023-11-13
Line count: 116
Word count: 790
Radúz: A uvrhli mě, krutě do věže, tam byla tma... Však ne, před tím, než mě tam vedli, bylo ještě něco... zjev jakýs světlý oslnil mi zrak, cos jako krásný pták... Ne, bílá lilie, již ozářila ranní zora... Co bylo to? Má paměť kalí se!... Nyola: Ty později si vzpomeneš, nehleď tak smutně, zmateně... Dál vypravuj… (stranou) Ó, Radovide, jak snášet, snášet? Radovid: Do věže uvrhli tě, viď, můj královici? Radúz: Tam byla tma a dlouho jsem tam ležel… ale jakýs paprsek mě navštěvoval… Jaký byl to paprsek? Nemohu, nemohu si vzpomenout… Mě bolí, matko, zde, vlož ruku na mé čelo... tak… tak…
Authorship:
- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Melodrama", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Radúz: And they cast me cruelly into a tower; it was dark in there… But no, before they took me in, there was something else… something bright dazzled me, something like a beautiful bird… No, a white lily, lit up by the rays of dawn… What was it? My memory is a blur!... Nyola: You will recall it later, do not be so sad and confused… Tell us more... (aside) O, Radovid, how can we, how can we bear this? Radovid: They cast you into a tower, didn’t they, my Prince? Radúz: It was dark in there and I lay there for a long time… but some ray of light used to visit me… What was this ray of light? I cannot remember, I cannot… I feel pain here, mother, here, place your hand on my brow... like that… yes, like that…
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on:
- a text in Czech (Čeština) by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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This text was added to the website: 2023-11-13
Line count: 23
Word count: 142
(Nyola udeří strom) Mahulena (v stromě): Ach! … Hosté: Ó, úžas! Lidský hlas z topolu ozval se! Radúz: Vzdech... Jaký to vzdech… Mou prošel útrobou!... Mahulena (dřímavě a slabě): Ó, bij, bij... Ale srdce neraň moje… to krvácí i bez tvých ran! Nyola (pustí sekyru): Mne jímá strach a lítost mimoděk... Ó, běda mně! Teď tryská z kamene krev, co znamená to, bledá luno, mluv, tam na nebi… Ty mnoho víš... my lidé bloudíme... Radúz: Můj strom, posvátný topol můj, má útěcha! (Objímá ho) Krev z tebe tryskla? Na mé čelo roň ji a propal je, ať zhynu žalem tím! Matko, teď krev na hlavu moji dopadla... Co to? Náhlý jas je ve mně. Duše jásá mi ... co to? Mahulena (hlasem silnějším): Můj Radúze, můj sladký Radúze! Má krev tě zhojila… Ta tam je kletba! Radúze! Radúz (vykřikne velice): Mahuleno! Teď to jméno mám a s jménem tím má paměť vrací se! (Strom se rozpůlí a Mahulena stojí před Radúzem) Všichni: Ó, úžas! Úžas! Div! Mahulena: Co děje se? Kde jsem... To Radúz můj! Už vím, už vím! Je láska silnější než všechna nenávist a milování kletby mocnější! Ty tenkrát uhodls to, Radúze, na štítu hor! Nyola: Kdo je ta dívka luzná podivně a obestřená jako čarem snů? Radúz: Toť ona, jež mi v Tatrách pouta sňala a k tobě, matko, mne vedla zpět... Ó, vše ti povím, budeš plakat, plakat! Žehnej ji! Hleď na ni, na mou holubici bílou!... Mahuleno... Ty bledneš strašlivě! Mahulena: Krvácím... (Omdlévá) Radúz: Krev na tvém rouše, na rameně... Nyola: Běda! To ruka moje spáchala! Já zabila ji? Radúz: Mahuleno! Mahuleno! Oči otvírá! A úsměv její září! Mahulena: Ten hlas mě volá zpět v to blahé, sladké žití! Rána moje není hluboká, jak moje radost... Jak teď bych mohla zemřít, když jsem tvá? Nyola: Ty odpouštíš? Radúze, za mě pros! Mahulena (klekne): Ó matko mého Radúze, ty velebná! Mně matka moje klnula, že jsem jej milovala, ty tedy žehnej mi! Nyola (objímá ji): Ty krotká holubice! Radúz: Pojď, matko, v dům! Ať odpočine Mahulena! Nyola: Jsem znalá mnohých léků a rána její brzy zacelí se! Radúz: Mahuleno, podepři se o mne— Nyola: Ne, o mne raději! Polož hlavu na mé srdce! Radúz: O lásku tvoji s matkou budem zápolit! Mahulena: Matko! Radúze! Což je tak velké štěstí možné! (Odchází podepírajíc se o oba k zámku. Radovid v pohnutí hledí za nimi) Radovid: Ó, budou pozdní ještě pokolení se vyprávět o věrném jejich milování! Toť jako v pohádce, jak šťastni jsou Radúz a Mahulena! … Opona
Authorship:
- by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Melodrama", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
(Nyola strikes the tree) Mahulena (in the tree): Ah! Guests: Oh, wonder! A human voice spoke from the poplar! Radúz: A sigh… What a sigh... I felt it in my entrails!... Mahulena (drowsily and feebly): O, strike, strike away... But do not wound my heart… it bleeds even without your blows! Nyola (dropping the axe): I am seized by fear and regret, despite myself… O, woe is me! Now blood is spurting from a stone. What does it mean, o pale moon, up in the sky?... Tell us. You know so much…we humans are confused… Radúz: My tree, my blessed poplar, my solace! (He embraces it) Has blood spurted from you? Shed it on my brow and let it burn through to slay me in my grief! Mother, my head is now (sings:) all in blood… What’s this? Suddenly I rejoice. My soul rejoices… what’s this? Mahulena (in a more powerful voice) My dear Radúz, my darling Radúz! My blood has healed you... The curse is no more! My Radúz! Radúz (crying out loudly): Mahulena! Now I know that name and it brings back my memory! The tree splits in two and Mahulena stands before Radúz. Everyone: O, wonder! Wonder! O! Mahulena: What is happening? Where am I?... This is my Radúz! Now I know it, I know it! Love is stronger than any hatred and loving is stronger than the most powerful curse! You discovered that, Radúz, on the mountain peak! Nyola: Who is that strangely enchanting girl, who seems to be enveloped in dreamlike charms? Radúz: She it is who freed me from my chains up in the Tatras and brought me back to you, mother... O, I will tell you all and you will weep, you will weep! Give her your blessing! See her, my dear white dove!... Mahulena… You are turning terribly pale! Mahulena: I am bleeding… (She swoons) Radúz: There is blood on your dress, on your shoulder… Nyola: Oh woe! That is by my hand! Have I killed her? Radúz: Mahulena! Mahulena! She is opening her eyes! She is smiling so brightly! Mahulena: That voice is calling me back to my lovely, blessed life! My wound is not as deep as my joy. How could I die now that I am yours? Nyola: Do you forgive me? Radúz, beg her for me! Mahulena (kneeling): O sublime mother of my Radúz! My mother laid a curse on me because I loved him, so you bless me now! Nyola (embracing her): You dear gentle dove! Radúz: Come, mother, indoors! Let Mahulena take her rest! Nyola: I am well versed in many cures and her wound will soon be healed! Radúz: Mahulena, lean on me— Nyola: No, rather on me! Rest your head on my heart! Radúz: Mother and I will vie for your love! Mahulena: Mother! Radúz! Can such great happiness be possible? (She departs for the castle, supported by them both. Radovid, deeply moved, watches as they leave) Radovid: O, for generations to come the tale will be told of their true love! As in fairy tales, they will live happily ever after — Radúz and Mahulena!... Curtain
Authorship:
- Translation from Czech (Čeština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on:
- a text in Czech (Čeština) by Julius Zeyer (1841 - 1901)
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This text was added to the website: 2023-11-13
Line count: 97
Word count: 524