Lyrics Britten: War Requiem, Op. 66 - Dies irae - Галина Вишневская, The Bach Choir, Highgate School Choir

Britten: War Requiem, Op. 66 - Dies irae

Dies irae, dies illa
Solvet saeclum in favilla:
Teste David cum Sibylla
Quantus tremor est futurus
Quando Judex est venturus
Cuncta stricte discussurus!
Tuba mirum spargens sonum
Per sepulchra regionum
Coget omnes ante thronum
Mors stupebit et natura
Cum resurget creatura
Judicanti responsura
Baritone:
Bugles sang, saddening the evening air;
And bugles answered, sorrowful to hear
Voices of boys were by the river-side
Sleep mothered them;
and left the twilight sad
The shadow of the morrow weighed on men
Voices of old despondency resigned
Bowed by the shadow of the morrow, slept
Soprano:
Liber scriptus proferetur
In quo totum continetur
Unde mundus judicetur
Judex ergo cum sedebit
Quidquid latet, apparebut:
Nil inultum remanebit
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
Quem patronem rogaturus
Cum vix justus sit securus?
Soprano and Chorus:
Rex tremendae majestatis
Qui salvandos salvas gratis
Salva me, fons pietatis
Tenor and Baritone:
Out there, we’ve walked quite friendly up to Death:
Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland, —
Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand
We’ve sniffed the green thick odour of his breath, —
Our eyes wept, but our courage didn’t writhe
He’s spat at us with bullets and he’s coughed
Shrapnel.
We chorused when he sang aloft;
We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe
Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!
We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum
No soldier’s paid to kick against his powers
We laughed, knowing that better men would come
And greater wars;
when each proud fighter brags
He wars on Death — for Life;
not men — for flags
Recordare Jesu pie
Quod sum causa tuae viae:
Ne me perdas illa die
Quarens me, sedisti lassus:
Redemisti crucem passus:
Tantus labor non sit cassus:
Ingemisco, tamquam reus:
Culpa rubet vultus meus:
Supplicanti parce Deus
Qui Mariam absolvisti
Et latronem exaudisti
Mihi quoque spem dedisti
Inter oves locum praesta
Et ab haedis me sequestra
Statuens in parte dextra
Confutatis maledictis
Flammis acribus addictis
Voca me cum benedictis
Oro supplex et acclinis
Cor contritum quasi cinis
Gere curam mei finis
Baritone:
Be slowly lifted up, thou long black arm
Great gun towering toward Heaven, about to curse;
Reach at that arrogance which needs thy harm
And beat it down before its sins grow worse;
But when thy spell be cast complete and whole
May God curse thee, and cut thee from our soul!
Dies irae, dies illa
Solvet saeclum in favilla:
Teste David cum Sibylla
Quantus tremor est futurus
Quando Judex est venturus
Cuncta stricte discussurus!
Soprano and Chorus:
Lacrimosa dies illa
Qua resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus:
Huic ergo parce Deus
Tenor:
Move him into the sun —
Gently its touch awoke him once
At home, whispering of fields unsown
Always it woke him, even in France
Until this morning and this snow
If anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know
Soprano and Chorus:
Lacrimosa dies illa…
Tenor:
Think how it wakes the seeds —
Woke, once, the clays of a cold star
Are limbs, so dear-acheived, are sides
Full-nerved — still warm — too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
Soprano and Chorus:
…Qua resurget ex favilla…
Tenor:
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
Soprano and Chorus:
…Judicandus homo reus
Tenor:
— O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth’s sleep at all?
Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem
Amen