Poetic baroque arias

[Mozart]

I love this one

Recitativo
Tra le follie diverse
de qual ripieno è il mondo
chi può negar, che la follia maggiore
in ciascuno non sia quella d'amore.


Aria
Siam navi all' onde algenti
lasciate in abbandono
impetuosi venti i nostri affetti sono,
ogni diletto è scoglio,
tutta la vita un mar.

Ben qual nocchiero in noi
veglia ragion ma poi
pur dal' ondoso orgoglio
si lascia trasportar.

Recitative
Of all the many follies
of which the world is full,
who can deny that the greatest folly
in anyone is that of Love?


Aria
We are like ships on the silver waves,
drifting out of control;
like capricious winds are our affections,
every pleasure is a rock,
the whole of life a sea.

Like a steersman reason
keeps good watch over us, but then
on the swell of pride
we let ourselves be carried away.

[Josquin des Prez]

I love this one

Recitativo
Tra le follie diverse
de qual ripieno è il mondo
chi può negar, che la follia maggiore
in ciascuno non sia quella d'amore.


Aria
Siam navi all' onde algenti
lasciate in abbandono
impetuosi venti i nostri affetti sono,
ogni diletto è scoglio,
tutta la vita un mar.

Ben qual nocchiero in noi
veglia ragion ma poi
pur dal' ondoso orgoglio
si lascia trasportar.

Recitative
Of all the many follies
of which the world is full,
who can deny that the greatest folly
in anyone is that of Love?


Aria
We are like ships on the silver waves,
drifting out of control;
like capricious winds are our affections,
every pleasure is a rock,
the whole of life a sea.

Like a steersman reason
keeps good watch over us, but then
on the swell of pride
we let ourselves be carried away.

A slightly more literal translation:

Recitative
Between the various follies
Full of which is the world
Who can deny that the greatest folly
in anyone is that of Love?

Aria
We're ships on silver waves,
left out of control;
Impetuous winds our affections are,
every pleasure a rock
the whole of life a sea.

A good helmsman in us
reason watches over (but then)
yet by the swell of pride
it lets itself be carried away.

Just wanted to exercise my wretched sense of verse. Italian poetry is so musical though, it's easy to understand why opera took so long to pull itself out of the exclusivity of the Italian idiom.