Joan Sutherland, 1926–2010

This is my third attempt now to write at least a note. I deleted the others, as I felt I couldn’t do her justice, at any rate.

Thank you, Joan, for blessing us forever with your nonpareil voice full of life and sadness.

G.F.Händel, Alcina

Ombre pallide, lo so, mi udite;
d’intorno errate,
e vi celate,
sorde da me:
perché? perché?
Fugge il mio bene;
voi lo fermate
deh! per pietate,
se in questa verga,
ch’ora disprezzo,
e voglio frangere,
forza non è.

 

Pale shadows, I know you hear me;
you scurry around me,
and hide,
deaf to me:
Why? Why?

My love flees,
you, stay,
oh! for mercy’s sake,
even if in this rod
that I now despise,
and want to break
no power is left.

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