The Rake's Progress:Act II Scene 2: What can this mean? (Anne, Rakewell) - Eugene Conley/Hilde Gueden.lrc

LRC歌词下载
[00:00.000] 作曲 : Igor Stravinsky
[00:11.693]What can this mean?
[00:13.692]A ball? a journey? a dream?
[00:21.127]How evil in the purple dark they seem!.
[00:25.098]Loot from dead fingers!. Living mockery!.
[00:36.129]I tremble, tremble with no reason.
[00:47.074]Lights!
[00:49.713]'Tis he!
[00:55.945]Anne! here!
[00:57.821]And Tom, such splendour!
[01:03.504]Leave pretences, Anne. Ask me! accuse me!
[01:07.869]Tom, no.
[01:09.514]Denounce me to the world and go.
[01:14.074]Tom, no!
[01:16.198]Return to your home, forget in your senses
[01:20.491]what, senseless, you pursue.
[01:24.863]Do you return?
[01:26.906]I!
[01:27.409]Then how shall I go?
[01:31.356]You must!
[01:37.924]Oh wilful powers, pummel to dust
[01:41.550]and drive into the void one thought: return!./Assist me, heaven, since love
[01:48.535]his eyes that burn./I must to calm his raging heart,
[01:59.969]Listen to me, for I know London well.
[02:07.511]Here virtue is a day coquette,
[02:12.120]for what night hides,
[02:16.548]it can forget.
[02:17.887]And virtue is, till gallants talk,
[02:22.387]and tell!.
[02:23.807]Oh Anne!
[02:25.906]That is the air we breathe.
[02:29.280]Go home!
[02:32.263]'Tis wisdom here to be afraid.
[02:36.501]How should I fear,
[02:39.182]who have your aid
[02:41.412]and all my love for you beside, dear Tom.
[02:48.397]My aid? My aid!
[02:52.595]London has done all that it can with me.
[02:57.850]Unworthy am l, less than weak.
[03:01.341]Go back!
[03:02.740]Let worthiness.
[03:05.411]So you still love, reside in that.
[03:11.564]Oh Anne!
文本歌词
作曲 : Igor Stravinsky
What can this mean?
A ball? a journey? a dream?
How evil in the purple dark they seem!.
Loot from dead fingers!. Living mockery!.
I tremble, tremble with no reason.
Lights!
'Tis he!
Anne! here!
And Tom, such splendour!
Leave pretences, Anne. Ask me! accuse me!
Tom, no.
Denounce me to the world and go.
Tom, no!
Return to your home, forget in your senses
what, senseless, you pursue.
Do you return?
I!
Then how shall I go?
You must!
Oh wilful powers, pummel to dust
and drive into the void one thought: return!./Assist me, heaven, since love
his eyes that burn./I must to calm his raging heart,
Listen to me, for I know London well.
Here virtue is a day coquette,
for what night hides,
it can forget.
And virtue is, till gallants talk,
and tell!.
Oh Anne!
That is the air we breathe.
Go home!
'Tis wisdom here to be afraid.
How should I fear,
who have your aid
and all my love for you beside, dear Tom.
My aid? My aid!
London has done all that it can with me.
Unworthy am l, less than weak.
Go back!
Let worthiness.
So you still love, reside in that.
Oh Anne!