Here are the lyrics for Carl Orff's Carmina Burana.
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O Fortuna | O Fortune, |
velut luna | like the moon |
statu variabilis, | you are changeable, |
semper crescis | ever waxing |
aut decrescis; | and waning; |
vita detestabilis | hateful life |
nunc obdurat | first oppresses |
et tunc curat | and then soothes |
ludo mentis aciem, | as fancy takes it; |
egestatem, | poverty |
potestatem | and power |
dissolvit ut glaciem. | it melts them like ice. |
Sors immanis | Fate - monstrous |
et inanis, | and empty, |
rota tu volubilis, | you whirling wheel, |
status malus, | you are malevolent, |
vana salus | well-being is vain |
semper dissolubilis, | and always fades to nothing, |
obumbrata | shadowed |
et velata | and veiled |
michi quoque niteris; | you plague me too; |
nunc per ludum | now through the game |
dorsum nudum | I bring my bare back |
fero tui sceleris. | to your villainy. |
Sors salutis | Fate is against me |
et virtutis | in health |
michi nunc contraria, | and virtue, |
est affectus | driven on |
et defectus | and weighted down, |
semper in angaria. | always enslaved. |
Hac in hora | So at this hour |
sine mora | without delay |
corde pulsum tangite; | pluck the vibrating strings; |
quod per sortem | since Fate |
sternit fortem, | strikes down the strong man, |
mecum omnes plangite! | everyone weep with me! |
Fortune plango vulnera | I bemoan the wounds of Fortune |
stillantibus ocellis | with weeping eyes, |
quod sua michi munera | for the gifts she made me |
subtrahit rebellis. | she perversely takes away. |
Verum est, quod legitur, | It is written in truth, |
fronte capillata, | that she has a fine head of hair, |
sed plerumque sequitur | but, when it comes to seizing an opportunity |
Occasio calvata. | she is bald. |
In Fortune solio | On Fortune's throne |
sederam elatus, | I used to sit raised up, |
prosperitatis vario | crowned with |
flore coronatus; | the many-coloured flowers of prosperity; |
quicquid enim florui | though I may have flourished |
felix et beatus, | happy and blessed, |
nunc a summo corrui | now I fall from the peak |
gloria privatus. | deprived of glory. |
Fortune rota volvitur: | The wheel of Fortune turns; |
descendo minoratus; | I go down, demeaned; |
alter in altum tollitur; | another is raised up; |
nimis exaltatus | far too high up |
rex sedet in vertice | sits the king at the summit - |
caveat ruinam! | let him fear ruin! |
nam sub axe legimus | for under the axis is written |
Hecubam reginam. | Queen Hecuba. |
Veris leta facies | The merry face of spring |
mundo propinatur, | turns to the world, |
hiemalis acies | sharp winter |
victa iam fugatur, | now flees, vanquished; |
in vestitu vario | bedecked in various colours |
Flora principatur, | Flora reigns, |
nemorum dulcisono | the harmony of the woods |
que cantu celebratur. | praises her in song. Ah! |
Flore fusus gremio | Lying in Flora's lap |
Phebus novo more | Phoebus once more |
risum dat, hac vario | smiles, now covered |
iam stipate flore. | in many-coloured flowers, |
Zephyrus nectareo | Zephyr breathes nectar- |
spirans in odore. | scented breezes. |
Certatim pro bravio | Let us rush to compete |
curramus in amore. | for love's prize. Ah! |
Cytharizat cantico | In harp-like tones sings |
dulcis Philomena, | the sweet nightingale, |
flore rident vario | with many flowers |
prata iam serena, | the joyous meadows are laughing, |
salit cetus avium | a flock of birds rises up |
silve per amena, | through the pleasant forests, |
chorus promit virgin | the chorus of maidens |
iam gaudia millena. | already promises a thousand joys. Ah! |
Omnia sol temperat | The sun warms everything, |
purus et subtilis, | pure and gentle, |
novo mundo reserat | once again it reveals to the world |
faciem Aprilis, | April's face, |
ad amorem properat | the soul of man |
animus herilis | is urged towards love |
et iocundis imperat | and joys are governed |
deus puerilis. | by the boy-god. |
Rerum tanta novitas | All this rebirth |
in solemni vere | in spring's festivity |
et veris auctoritas | and spring's power |
jubet nos gaudere; | bids us to rejoice; |
vias prebet solitas, | it shows us paths we know well, |
et in tuo vere | and in your springtime |
fides est et probitas | it is true and right |
tuum retinere. | to keep what is yours. |
Ama me fideliter, | Love me faithfully! |
fidem meam noto: | See how I am faithful: |
de corde totaliter | with all my heart |
et ex mente tota | and with all my soul, |
sum presentialiter | I am with you |
absens in remota, | even when I am far away. |
quisquis amat taliter, | Whosoever loves this much |
volvitur in rota. | turns on the wheel. |
Ecce gratum | Behold, the pleasant |
et optatum | and longed-for |
Ver reducit gaudia, | spring brings back joyfulness, |
purpuratum | violet flowers |
floret pratum, | fill the meadows, |
Sol serenat omnia. | the sun brightens everything, |
Iamiam cedant tristia! | sadness is now at an end! |
Estas redit, | Summer returns, |
nunc recedit | now withdraw |
Hyemis sevitia. | the rigours of winter. Ah! |
Iam liquescit | Now melts |
et decrescit | and disappears |
grando, nix et cetera; | ice, snow and the rest, |
bruma fugit, | winter flees, |
et iam sugit | and now spring sucks at summer's breast: |
Ver Estatis ubera; | a wretched soul is he |
illi mens est misera, | who does not live |
qui nec vivit, | or lust |
nec lascivit sub Estatis dextera. | under summer's rule. Ah! |
Gloriantur | They glory |
et letantur | and rejoice |
in melle dulcedinis, | in honeyed sweetness |
qui conantur, | who strive |
ut utantur | to make use of |
premio Cupidinis: | Cupid's prize; |
simus jussu Cypridis | at Venus' command |
gloriantes | let us glory |
et letantes | and rejoice |
pares esse Paridis. | in being Paris' equals. Ah! |
(Chorus) | |
Floret silva nobilis | The noble woods are burgeoning |
floribus et foliis. | with flowers and leaves. |
(Small Chorus) | |
Ubi est antiquus | Where is the lover |
meus amicus? | I knew? Ah! |
Hinc equitavit, | He has ridden off! |
eia, quis me amabit? | Oh! Who will love me? Ah! |
(Chorus) | |
Floret silva undique, | The woods are burgeoning all over, |
nah min gesellen ist mir we. | I am pining for my lover. |
(Small Chorus) | |
Gruonet der walt allenthalben, | The woods are turning green all over, |
wa ist min geselle alse lange? | why is my lover away so long? Ah! |
Der ist geriten hinnen, | He has ridden off, |
o wi, wer sol mich minnen? | Oh woe, who will love me? Ah! |
(Semi-Chorus) | |
Chramer, gip die varwe mir, | Shopkeeper, give me colour |
die min wengel roete, | to make my cheeks red, |
damit ich die jungen man | so that I can make the young men |
an ir dank der minnenliebe noete. | love me, against their will. |
Seht mich an, | Look at me, |
jungen man! | young men! |
lat mich iu gevallen! | Let me please you! |
Minnet, tugentliche man, | Good men, love |
minnecliche frouwen! | women worthy of love! |
minne tuot iu hoch gemout | Love ennobles your spirit |
unde lat iuch in hohen eren schouwen | and gives you honour. |
Seht mich an | Look at me, |
jungen man! | young men! |
lat mich iu gevallen! | Let me please you! |
Wol dir, werit, daz du bist | Hail, world, |
also freudenriche! | so rich in joys! |
ich will dir sin undertan | I will be obedient to you |
durch din liebe immer sicherliche. | because of the pleasures you afford. |
Seht mich an, | Look at me, |
jungen man! | young men! |
lat mich iu gevallen! | Let me please you! |
Swaz hie gat umbe, | Those who go round and round |
daz sint alles megede, | are all maidens, |
die wellent an man | they want to do without a man |
allen disen sumer gan! | all summer long. Ah! Sla! |
Chume, chum, geselle min, | Come, come, my love, |
ih enbite harte din, | I long for you, |
ih enbite harte din, | I long for you, |
chume, chum, geselle min. | come, come, my love. |
Suzer rosenvarwer munt, | Sweet rose-red lips, |
chum un mache mich gesunt | come and make me better, |
chum un mache mich gesunt, | come and make me better, |
suzer rosenvarwer munt | sweet rose-red lips. |
Swaz hie gat umbe, | Those who go round and round |
daz sint alles megede, | are all maidens, |
die wellent an man | they want to do without a man |
allen disen sumer gan! | all summer long. Ah! Sla! |
Were diu werlt alle min | Were all the world mine |
von deme mere unze an den Rin | from the sea to the Rhine, |
des wolt ih mih darben, | I would starve myself of it |
daz diu chunegin von Engellant | so that the queen of England |
lege an minen armen. | might lie in my arms. |
Estuans interius | Burning inside |
ira vehementi | with violent anger, |
in amaritudine | bitterly |
loquor mee menti: | I speak to my heart: |
factus de materia, | created from matter, |
cinis elementi | of the ashes of the elements, |
similis sum folio, | I am like a leaf |
de quo ludunt venti. | played with by the winds. |
Cum sit enim proprium | If it is the way |
viro sapienti | of the wise man |
supra petram ponere | to build |
sedem fundamenti, | foundations on stone, |
stultus ego comparor | the I am a fool, like |
fluvio labenti, | a flowing stream, |
sub eodem tramite | which in its course |
nunquam permanenti. | never changes. |
Feror ego veluti | I am carried along |
sine nauta navis, | like a ship without a steersman, |
ut per vias aeris | and in the paths of the air |
vaga fertur avis; | like a light, hovering bird; |
non me tenent vincula, | chains cannot hold me, |
non me tenet clavis, | keys cannot imprison me, |
quero mihi similes | I look for people like me |
et adiungor pravis. | and join the wretches. |
Mihi cordis gravitas | The heaviness of my heart |
res videtur gravis; | seems like a burden to me; |
iocis est amabilis | it is pleasant to joke |
dulciorque favis; | and sweeter than honeycomb; |
quicquid Venus imperat, | whatever Venus commands |
labor est suavis, | is a sweet duty, |
que nunquam in cordibus | she never dwells |
habitat ignavis. | in a lazy heart. |
Via lata gradior | I travel the broad path |
more iuventutis | as is the way of youth, |
inplicor et vitiis | I give myself to vice, |
immemor virtutis, | unmindful of virtue, |
voluptatis avidus | I am eager for the pleasures of the flesh |
magis quam salutis, | more than for salvation, |
mortuus in anima | my soul is dead, |
curam gero cutis. | so I shall look after the flesh. |
Olim lacus colueram, | Once I lived on lakes, |
olim pulcher extiteram, | once I looked beautiful |
dum cignus ego fueram. | when I was a swan. |
(Male chorus) | |
Miser, miser! | Misery me! |
modo niger | Now black |
et ustus fortiter! | and roasting fiercely! |
(Tenor) | |
Girat, regirat garcifer; | The servant is turning me on the spit; |
me rogus urit fortiter; | I am burning fiercely on the pyre: |
propinat me nunc dapifer, | the steward now serves me up. |
(Male Chorus) | |
Miser, miser! | Misery me! |
modo niger | Now black |
et ustus fortiter! | and roasting fiercely! |
(Tenor) | |
Nunc in scutella iaceo, | Now I lie on a plate, |
et volitare nequeo | and cannot fly anymore, |
dentes frendentes video: | I see bared teeth: |
(Male Chorus) | |
Miser, miser! | Misery me! |
modo niger | Now black |
et ustus fortiter! | and roasting fiercely! |
Ego sum abbas Cucaniensis | I am the abbot of Cockaigne |
et consilium meum est cum bibulis, | and my assembly is one of drinkers, |
et in secta Decii voluntas mea est, | and I wish to be in the order of Decius, |
et qui mane me quesierit in taberna, | and whoever searches me out at the tavern in the morning, |
post vesperam nudus egredietur, | after Vespers he will leave naked, |
et sic denudatus veste clamabit: | and thus stripped of his clothes he will call out: |
(Baritone and Male Chorus) | |
Wafna, wafna! | Woe! Woe! |
quid fecisti sors turpassi | what have you done, vilest Fate? |
Nostre vite gaudia | the joys of my life |
abstulisti omnia! | you have taken all away! |
In taberna quando sumus | When we are in the tavern, |
non curamus quid sit humus, | we do not think how we will go to dust, |
sed ad ludum properamus, | but we hurry to gamble, |
cui semper insudamus. | which always makes us sweat. |
Quid agatur in taberna | What happens in the tavern, |
ubi nummus est pincerna, | where money is host, |
hoc est opus ut queratur, | you may well ask, |
si quid loquar, audiatur. | and hear what I say. |
Quidam ludunt, quidam bibunt, | Some gamble, some drink, |
quidam indiscrete vivunt. | some behave loosely. |
Sed in ludo qui morantur, | But of those who gamble, |
ex his quidam denudantur | some are stripped bare, |
quidam ibi vestiuntur, | some win their clothes here, |
quidam saccis induuntur. | some are dressed in sacks. |
Ibi nullus timet mortem | Here no-one fears death, |
sed pro Baccho mittunt sortem: | but they throw the dice in the name of Bacchus. |
Primo pro nummata vini, | First of all it is to the wine-merchant |
ex hac bibunt libertini; | the the libertines drink, |
semel bibunt pro captivis, | one for the prisoners, |
post hec bibunt ter pro vivis, | three for the living, |
quater pro Christianis cunctis | four for all Christians, |
quinquies pro fidelibus defunctis, | five for the faithful dead, |
sexies pro sororibus vanis, | six for the loose sisters, |
septies pro militibus silvanis. | seven for the footpads in the wood, |
Octies pro fratribus perversis, | Eight for the errant brethren, |
nonies pro monachis dispersis, | nine for the dispersed monks, |
decies pro navigantibus | ten for the seamen, |
undecies pro discordaniibus, | eleven for the squabblers, |
duodecies pro penitentibus, | twelve for the penitent, |
tredecies pro iter agentibus. | thirteen for the wayfarers. |
Tam pro papa quam pro rege | To the Pope as to the king |
bibunt omnes sine lege. | they all drink without restraint. |
Bibit hera, bibit herus, | The mistress drinks, the master drinks, |
bibit miles, bibit clerus, | the soldier drinks, the priest drinks, |
bibit ille, bibit illa, | the man drinks, the woman drinks, |
bibit servis cum ancilla, | the servant drinks with the maid, |
bibit velox, bibit piger, | the swift man drinks, the lazy man drinks, |
bibit albus, bibit niger, | the white man drinks, the black man drinks, |
bibit constans, bibit vagus, | the settled man drinks, the wanderer drinks, |
bibit rudis, bibit magnus. | the stupid man drinks, the wise man drinks, |
Bibit pauper et egrotus, | The poor man drinks, the sick man drinks, |
bibit exul et ignotus, | the exile drinks, and the stranger, |
bibit puer, bibit canus, | the boy drinks, the old man drinks, |
bibit presul et decanus, | the bishop drinks, and the deacon, |
bibit soror, bibit frater, | the sister drinks, the brother drinks, |
bibit anus, bibit mater, | the old lady drinks, the mother drinks, |
bibit ista, bibit ille, | this man drinks, that man drinks, |
bibunt centum, bibunt mille. | a hundred drink, a thousand drink. |
Parum sexcente nummate | Six hundred pennies would hardly |
durant, cum immoderate | suffice, if everyone |
bibunt omnes sine meta. | drinks immoderately and immeasurably. |
Quamvis bibant mente leta, | However much they cheerfully drink |
sic nos rodunt omnes gentes | we are the ones whom everyone scolds, |
et sic erimus egentes. | and thus we are destitute. |
Qui nos rodunt confundantur | May those who slander us be cursed |
et cum iustis non scribantur. | and may their names not be written in the book of the righteous. |
Amor volat undique, | Cupid flies everywhere |
captus est libidine. | seized by desire. |
Iuvenes, iuvencule | Young men and women |
coniunguntur merito. | are rightly coupled. |
(Soprano) | |
Siqua sine socio, | The girl without a lover |
caret omni gaudio; | misses out on all pleasures, |
tenet noctis infima | she keeps the dark night |
sub intimo | hidden |
cordis in custodia: | in the depth of her heart; |
(Boys) | |
fit res amarissima. | it is a most bitter fate. |
Dies, nox et omnia | Day, night and everything |
michi sunt contraria; | is against me, |
virginum colloquia | the chattering of maidens |
me fay planszer, | makes me weep, |
oy suvenz suspirer, | and often sigh, |
plu me fay temer. | and, most of all, scares me. |
O sodales, ludite, | O friends, you are making fun of me, |
vos qui scitis dicite | you do not know what you are saying, |
michi mesto parcite, | spare me, sorrowful as I am, |
grand ey dolur, | great is my grief, |
attamen consulite | advise me at least, |
per voster honur. | by your honour. |
Tua pulchra facies | Your beautiful face, |
me fay planszer milies, | makes me weep a thousand times, |
pectus habet glacies. | your heart is of ice. |
A remender | As a cure, |
statim vivus fierem | I would be revived |
per un baser. | by a kiss. |
Stetit puella | A girl stood |
rufa tunica; | in a red tunic; |
si quis eam tetigit, | if anyone touched it, |
tunica crepuit. | the tunic rustled. |
Eia. | Eia! |
Stetit puella | A girl stood |
tamquam rosula; | like a little rose: |
facie splenduit, | her face was radiant |
os eius fioruit. | and her mouth in bloom. |
Eia. | Eia! |
(Baritone and Chorus) | |
Circa mea pectora | In my heart |
multa sunt suspiria | there are many sighs |
de tua pulchritudine, | for your beauty, |
que me ledunt misere. | which wound me sorely. Ah! |
Manda liet, | Mandaliet, |
Manda liet | mandaliet, |
min geselle | my lover |
chumet niet. | does not come. |
Tui lucent oculi | Your eyes shine |
sicut solis radii, | like the rays of the sun, |
sicut splendor fulguris | like the flashing of lightening |
lucem donat tenebris. | which brightens the darkness. Ah! |
Manda liet | Mandaliet, |
Manda liet, | mandaliet, |
min geselle | my lover |
chumet niet. | does not come. |
Vellet deus, vallent dii | May God grant, may the gods grant |
quod mente proposui: | what I have in mind: |
ut eius virginea | that I may loose |
reserassem vincula. | the chains of her virginity. Ah! |
Manda liet, | Mandaliet, |
Manda liet, | mandaliet, |
min geselle | my lover |
chumet niet. | does not come. |
Si puer cum puellula | If a boy with a girl |
moraretur in cellula, | tarries in a little room, |
felix coniunctio. | happy is their coupling. |
Amore suscrescente | Love rises up, |
pariter e medio | and between them |
avulso procul tedio, | prudery is driven away, |
fit ludus ineffabilis | an ineffable game begins |
membris, lacertis, labii | in their limbs, arms and lips. |
Veni, veni, venias | Come, come, O come |
Veni, veni, venias, | Come, come, O come, |
ne me mori facias, | do not let me die, |
hyrca, hyrce, nazaza, | hycra, hycre, nazaza, |
trillirivos… | trillirivos! |
Pulchra tibi facies | Beautiful is your face, |
oculorum acies, | the gleam of your eye, |
capillorum series, | your braided hair, |
o quam clara species! | what a glorious creature! |
Rosa rubicundior, | redder than the rose, |
lilio candidior | whiter than the lily, |
omnibus formosior, | lovelier than all others, |
semper in te glorior! | I shall always glory in you! |
In truitina mentis dubia | In the wavering balance of my feelings |
fluctuant contraria | set against each other |
lascivus amor et pudicitia. | lascivious love and modesty. |
Sed eligo quod video, | But I choose what I see, |
collum iugo prebeo: | and submit my neck to the yoke; |
ad iugum tamen suave transeo. | I yield to the sweet yoke. |
Tempus es iocundum, | This is the joyful time, |
o virgines, | O maidens, |
modo congaudete | rejoice with them, |
vos iuvenes. | young men! |
(Baritone) | |
Oh, oh, oh, | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
totus floreo, | I am bursting out all over! |
iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
(Women) | |
Mea me confortat | I am heartened |
promissio, | by my promise, |
mea me deportat | I am downcast by my refusal |
(Soprano and boys) | |
Oh, oh, oh | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
totus floreo | I am bursting out all over! |
iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
(Men) | |
Tempore brumali | In the winter |
vir patiens, | man is patient, |
animo vernali | the breath of spring |
lasciviens. | makes him lust. |
(Baritone) | |
Oh, oh, oh, | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
totus floreo, | I am bursting out all over! |
iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
(Women) | |
Mea mecum ludit | My virginity |
virginitas, | makes me frisky, |
mea me detrudit | my simplicity |
simplicitas. | holds me back. |
(Soprano and Boys) | |
Oh, oh, oh, | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
totus floreo, | I am bursting out all over! |
iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
(Chorus) | |
Veni, domicella, | Come, my mistress, |
cum gaudio, | with joy, |
veni, veni, pulchra, | come, come, my pretty, |
iam pereo. | I am dying! |
(Baritone, Boys and Chorus) | |
Oh, oh, oh, | Oh! Oh! Oh! |
totus floreo, | I am bursting out all over! |
iam amore virginali | I am burning all over with first love! |
totus ardeo, novus, novus amor est, quo pereo. | New, new love is what I am dying of! |
Dulcissime, | Sweetest one! Ah! |
totam tibi subdo me! | I give myself to you totally! |
Ave formosissima, | Hail, most beautiful one, |
gemma pretiosa, | precious jewel, |
ave decus virginum, | Hail, pride among virgins, |
virgo gloriosa, | glorious virgin, |
ave mundi luminar, | Hail. light of the world, |
ave mundi rosa, | Hail, rose of the world, |
Blanziflor et Helena, | Blanchefleur and Helen, |
Venus generosa! | noble Venus! |
O Fortuna, | O Fortune, |
velut luna | like the moon |
statu variabilis, | you are changeable, |
semper crescis | ever waxing |
aut decrescis; | and waning; |
vita detestabilis | hateful life |
nunc obdurat | first oppresses |
et tunc curat | and then soothes |
ludo mentis aciem, | as fancy takes it; |
egestatem, | poverty |
potestatem | and power |
dissolvit ut glaciem. | it melts them like ice. |
Sors immanis | Fate - monstrous |
et inanis, | and empty, |
rota tu volubilis, | you whirling wheel, |
status malus, | you are malevolent, |
vana salus | well-being is in vain |
semper dissolubilis, | and always fades to nothing, |
obumbrata | shadowed |
et velata | and veiled |
michi quoque niteris; | you plague me too; |
nunc per ludum | now through the game |
dorsum nudum | I bring my bare back |
fero tui sceleris. | to your villainy. |
Sors salutis | Fate is against me |
et virtutis | in health |
michi nunc contraria, | and virtue, |
est affectus | driven on |
et defectus | and weighted down, |
semper in angaria. | always enslaved. |
Hac in hora | So at this hour |
sine mora | without delay |
corde pulsum tangite; | pluck the vibrating strings; |
quod per sortem | since Fate |
sternit fortem, | strikes down the strong man, |
mecum omnes plangite! | everybody weep with me! |
Note: These lyrics are copyright and are published here with the permission of Schott Music International.
© Schott Musik International, Mainz, Germany.
Entered by Charles Cave