The Four Seasons Antonio Vivaldi

Spring

Spring has Come

and is greeted Joyfully by the birds with merry song

The little brooks flow to the whispering of the zephyr winds with gentle murmuring

Meanwhile: The heavens decked with robes of black, Thunder and lightning appear as augeries

Then, when all is still again, The little birds return to their enchanting song.

The Shepherd sleeps, (solo violin) on the blossoming, Gentle Meadow, beneath the rustling Of the twigs and leaves (violins), the faithful dog (violas) at his side.

To the festive sound of rustic bagpipes Nymphs and shepherds dance beneath heavens canopy, At the brilliant appearance of spring.

Summer

In the merciless season of the burning sun Both man and animal languish,

while the pine tree burns.

The cuckoo offers his voice,

and in quick accord

Soon sing the dove and goldfinch as well.

A gentle breeze blows,

But suddenly is challenged By the north wind

The shepherd boy weeps, fearful of The threatening storm and of his fate.

His tired limbs deprived of rest

He fears the flashes of lightning and firey thunder As well as the furious swars of gnats and wasps (violins)

Ah, all too true are his fears,

The sky thunders and flashes, and hailstones Break the stalks of the ears of corn.

Autumn

The peasants express with dance and song Their joy for the happy harvest

They are from Bacchus so inebriated

That their merriment is followed by sleep.

Thus in turn each ceases his singing and dancing The air is mild and pleasant, And the season induces many To enjoy sweet slumber.

At daybreak the hunters leave for the chase, With horns, guns, and dogs,

The wild beast takes flight, and they follow its trail.

It is already terrified and exhausted by the great noise Of the guns and the dogs,

and wounded it tries To flee from danger,

but exhausted, dies.

Winter

Freezing to death, shivering in the glittering snow.

In the howling wind of the fierce storm,

We hurry on, stamping our feet

Our teeth chattering in the extreme cold.

By the fireside, we spend a peaceful day While outside, rain (violins) pours on everyone in sight.

Walking on the ice,

but with slow steps Fearing to fall, we walk with caution:

Boldly stepping out,

Slipping and falling to the ground

On the ice we get up again, running with vigorous steps,

Until finally the ice breaks, and we fall.

One hears emerging from behind closed doors

The Sirocco, the Borea, and all the other winds fighting each other

This is winter, but even so, what joy it brings!