William Shakespeare -> Ουίλιαμ Σαίξπηρ, Γουίλιαμ Σαίξπηρ, Ουίλιαμ Σέξπιρ, Γουίλιαμ Σέξπιρ, Ουίλλιαμ Σαίξπηρ, Γουίλλιαμ Σαίξπηρ, Γουλιέλμος Σαιξπήρος

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Sonnet 95

How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
O! in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose.
That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise;
Naming thy name blesses an ill report.
O! what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot
And all things turns to fair that eyes can see!
Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.


Τι εράσμια και γλυκιά που κάνεις τη ντροπή,
που σαν σκουλήκι μέσ’ σε ρόδο προφαντό
του ονόματος σου μιαίνει την ανθοστολή!
Με τι γλύκες σκεπάζεις βίον αμαρτωλό!
Τα χείλη, που ιστορούν ήμερες σου, αν το ειπούν
σχολιάζοντάς σου το παιχνίδι σου λαγνεία,
δε μπορούν να σε ψέξουν, μόνο σαν να υμνούν
λεν τ’ όνομά σου κι είναι ο ψόγος ευλογία.
Τι κατοικία βρήκαν οι κακίες αυτές
που διάλεξαν εσένα, τέτοιο ένα παλάτι,
όπου ο πέπλος του κάλλους κρύβει τις πομπές
και κάνει ωραία όσα μπορεί να βλέπει μάτι.
Πρόσεξέ το, καρδιά μου, το προνόμιο αυτό,
χρήση κακιά στομώνει ένα σπαθί καλό.


Μετάφραση: Βασίλης Ρώτας

This sonnet continues to snipe at the young man's morals, although his backsliding is given a far more attractive gloss than previously. It is clearly an integral part of this mini-sequence of sonnets dealing with deception and betrayal which runs from 91 to 96. But now all has become sweet and lovely, at least on the surface. The positive words of implicit praise, sweet, lovely, fragrant rose, beauty, budding name, sweets, kind of praise, blesses, mansion, beauty's veil, all things fair, far outnumber the negative cankers. Against this army of noble, though perhaps too sugary kinsfolk, the vices, blots and festering of dissipation do not make much headway. All is swallowed in the young man's merits and beauty, and the closing couplet seems rather weak in its admonitory power. The youth is not likely to change his spots, nor is the knife of sharpest metal likely to be thrown away.
http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/95


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Sonnet 96

Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
Both grace and faults are lov'd of more and less:
Thou mak'st faults graces that to thee resort.
As on the finger of a throned queen
The basest jewel will be well esteem'd,
So are those errors that in thee are seen
To truths translated, and for true things deem'd.
How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,
If like a lamb he could his looks translate!
How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!
But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.


Άλλοι είναι λεν της νιότης φταίσμα, άλλοι λαγνεία,
άλλοι, είναι παιχνιδιάρα χάρη νεανική·
φταίσμα είτε χάρη, σε όλους φέρνει γοητεία,
κάνεις το φταίσμα χάρη, αν στο παιχνίδι εσύ:
καθώς στο δάχτυλο βασίλισσας με στέμμα
εχτίμηση μια πέτρα παίρνει, η πιο χυδαία,
έτσι και κάθε σου παράβαση και ψέμα
περνάν γι’ αλήθειες και για πράματα σπουδαία.
Ο λύκος πόσα αρνιά ο φονιάς θα ’χε πατήσει,
αν μπορούσε να μεταμορφωθεί σε αρνί,
πόσους θεατές σου θα ξεμαύλιζες, αν χρήση
θα ’κανες όλης της γοητείας σου ικανή!
Μα μην το κάνεις, γιατί τόσο σ’ αγαπώ,
που ’ναι δικό μου τ’ όνομά σου το καλό.


Μετάφραση: Βασίλης Ρώτας

The youth is gently accused of libertinism and sensuality, and given a warning not to use the power of his beauty over others to its full effect. For they would all be led as lambs to the slaughter, and the young man's reputation might suffer as a result. Yet since the two lovers are one, a slanderous report is damaging to both, and the poet therefore wishes to keep both his own and the youth's reputation unsullied.
This is the last of a group of six sonnets, 91-6, which analyse the youth's character in the light of alleged misdemeanours. The tone is one of gentle remonstrance, rather than foetid and festering recrimination, which is what it was verging on in previous sonnets. Here there is more calm and a philosophic detachment, with an echo, perhaps deliberate, from an earlier sonnet. It could be that the poet is beginning to distance himself from his former passions, and now begins to look upon the history of his love with a distant eye, as if it were something experienced by another, which he may now safely analyse and comment on.
http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/96



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Sonnet 29

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.


Όταν σμικρύνομαι στα μάτια όλου του κόσμου
μόνος τον εαυτό μου απόβλητο θρηνώ,
τη μοίρα μέμφομαι και λοιδορώ το φως μου
κι αναστατώνω με φωνές τον ουρανό,
και με φαντάζομαι να 'μουν αλλιώς πλασμένος,
να ’χω την τέχνη του ενός, το νου του άλλου,
ωραίος, φέρελπις, με φίλους προικισμένος,
και υποφέρω το μαρτύριο του Ταντάλου·
κι εκεί που μόλις αυτομίσητος πηγαίνω,
σε συλλογίζομαι και γίνομαι μαζί σου
κορυδαλλός που από τη μαύρη γη τον αίνο
ξυπνά και ψέλνει προς το φως του παραδείσου.
Τέτοιο για μένα της αγάπης σου το κλέος
που δεν τ’ αλλάζω ούτε με σκήπτρο βασιλέως.


Μετάφραση: Διονύσης Καψάλης



When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.


Όταν από κακοτυχιά μου κι ανθρωποματιές
κατάμονος το απόβλητο της θέσης μου θρηνώ,
και τον βαθύ ουρανό ενοχλώ μ’ ανώφελες κραυγές
και βλαστημάω τη μοίρα μου, βλέποντας τι ’μαι εγώ,
κι εύχομαι να ’μουν πλούσιος νέος μ’ άξιους τρόπους,
καλοφτιαγμένος, με παρέα καλοσυστημένη,
με τέχνη ζηλευτή και δράση στους ανθρώπους
κι η πιο τρανή μου απόλαυση πιο λίγο να μ’ ευφραίνει,
την ώρα που έτσι η θέση μου αυτοκαταφρονιέται,
ξάφνου σε φέρνει η σκέψη μου κι ευθύς μ’ όλον τον νου,
σαν κορδαλλός που χαραυγή απ’ τη μαύρη γη πετιέται,
η θέση μου ύμνους ψάλλει εμπρός στην πύλη τ’ ουρανού.
Η ιδέα της γλυκιάς σου αγάπης τόσο με πλουτίζει,
που η θέση μου ακατάδεχτη ρηγάδες αντικρίζει.



Μετάφραση: Βασίλης Ρώτας, Βούλα Δαμιανάκου



When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.


When I’m in disgrace with everyone and my luck has deserted me,
I sit all alone and cry about the fact that I’m an outcast,
and bother God with useless cries, which fall on deaf ears,
and look at myself and curse my fate, wishing
that I had more to hope for, wishing I had
this man’s good looks and that man’s friends,
this man’s skills and that man’s opportunities,
and totally dissatisfied with the things
I usually enjoy the most. Yet, as I’m thinking
these thoughts and almost hating myself,
I happen to think about you, and then my
condition improves—like a lark at daybreak
rising up and leaving the earth far behind
to sing hymns to God. For when I remember
your sweet love, I feel so wealthy that
I’d refuse to change places even with kings.



Modern English text on the right
https://www.sparknotes.com/nofear/shakespeare/sonnets/sonnet_29/

It is uncertain whether the state of disgrace referred to in this sonnet is a real or imaginary one, for we have no external evidence of a dip in Shakespeare's fortunes which might have contributed to an attack of melancholy and a subsequent castigation of fate as the perpetrator. It is tempting to relate works to periods in an author's life. Certainly the years in which Shakespeare wrote Lear and Timon of Athens seem not to have been the happiest of times, but it is almost impossible to correlate particular events in his life, and the possible emotional crises that they could have produced, with publication dates, or known dates of production of his plays. (See further notes on SonnetXXIX. )
http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/29
« Last Edit: 02 Feb, 2020, 18:27:34 by spiros »


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Sonnet 24

Mine eye hath played the painter and hath steeled,
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective that is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.


Το μάτι μου έγινε ζωγράφος κι έχει σχεδιασμένη
στην πλάκα της καρδιάς μου την ωραία μορφή σου.
Το σώμα μου σαν πλαίσιο την κρατάει αγκαλιασμένη
κι η μαστοριά της τέχνης της είναι προοπτική,
τι μέσα απ’ τον ζωγράφο βλέπεις πόσο είν’ ικανός,
πόσο πιστά σε δείχνει στο ζωγράφισμά του,
που στ’ ατελιέ του στήθους μου κρέμεται διαρκώς
κι αυτό τα μάτια σου έχει τζάμια στα παράθυρά του.
Και τώρα των ματιών μας δες τις μαργιολιές:
τα μάτια μου ζωγράφοι, τα δικά σου είναι για μένα
παράθυρα στο στήθος μου, που από κει γλυκές
ρίχνει κλεφτές ματιές ο ήλιος για να ιδεί εσένα.
Τέχνης επίδειξη είναι των ματιών η πονηριά,
μα ό,τι βλέπουν φτιάνουν, δε γνωρίζουν την καρδιά.


Μετάφραση: Βασίλης Ρώτας, Βούλα Δαμιανάκου



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Sonnet 100

Where art thou Muse that thou forget'st so long,
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem,
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make Time's spoils despised every where.
Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life,
So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.


Μούσα μου, πώς καιρό ξεχνάς εκείνο που
σου δίνει όλη τη δύναμή σου; Τη μανία
σ’ άσματ’ ανάξια σπαταλάς, την αίγλη σου
σκορπάς δανείζοντας το φως σου σε ύλη αχρεία;
Γύρνα, ανάμελη μούσα μου κι αμέσως κέρδισε
με μέτρα αβρά καιρό που χάθη με το ρέμα,
ψάλε γι’ αυτιά που σου εχτιμάν την ποίηση και
δίνουν στην πένα σου τα δυο, τέχνη και θέμα.
Σήκω, οκνή μούσα, τήρα αν έχει χαρακιά
σκάψει ο καιρός στο εράσμιο θώρι του καλού
κι αν ναι, να γίνεις σάτιρα για τη φθορά
να ’ν’ του καιρού οι ζημιές περίγελος παντού.
Ο ύμνος του έρωτά μου πιο γοργά να φτερουγίζει
απ’ του καιρού το δρέπανο που τη ζωή θερίζει.


Μετάφραση: Βασίλης Ρώτας

In this and the following three sonnets the poet elaborately excuses his silence and the hiatus in the production of his sonnets in praise of the youth, a hiatus which perhaps corresponds to the period of absence commemorated in the previous three sonnets. Whether this silence was a real or imaginary one it is impossible to know. The defence against the charge of failure is a conventional defence, in that it uses the standard figure of the Muse as the source of poetic inspiration. But here the Muse is blamed for having dried up. She has spent her energies in worthless pursuits and is castigated for being devoted to trivialities, being forgetful and slothful. In the following sonnets she is accused of being a truant, neglectful, incapable, and beggarly.
http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/100


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Sonnet 101

O truant Muse what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer Muse: wilt thou not haply say,
'Truth needs no colour, with his colour fixed;
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermixed'?
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
Excuse not silence so, for't lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb
And to be praised of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
To make him seem, long hence, as he shows now.


Μούσα αλήτισσα, ποιες θα βρεις δικιολογίες
που αμέλησες αλήθεια με ομορφιά βαμμένη;
Η αλήθεια κι η ομορφιά ναι του έρωτά μου αξίες
καθώς και συ, μ’ αυτόν και εσύ καταξιωμένη.
Μούσα, απάντησε: ή μη μας πεις «δεν έχει η αλήθεια
χρεία να βάλει άλλο χρώμα απ’ το δικό της,
ούτ’ η ομορφιά απ’ της ομορφιάς της την αλήθεια,
γιατί ’ναι τέλεια η ανόθευτη τελειότης».
Επειδή δε χρειάζεται ύμνο, εσύ κρατάς σιωπή;
Μη δικαιολογίες, τον κάνεις συ, αν θες,
πιο πολύ από μνήμα επίχρυσο να ζει,
να τον δοξολογούν οι ερχόμενες γενεές.
Λοιπόν το χρέος σου, Μούσα, κάνε όπως σου λέω
να τον δείχνεις σαν τώρα, πάντα ωραίον και νέον.


Μετάφραση: Βασίλης Ρώτας

The poet continues with his cheeky castigation of the Muse. Perhaps by throwing all the blame on her he can show that he is guiltless, and in fact that he is better than her, for best is best if never intermixed, therefore he should not need to mix his own inspiration with that provided by the Muse. Indeed, by the end of the poem he is offering to teach her how it should be done, and the youth no doubt is expected to be an amused bystander of all this. To the reader there is perhaps an awareness of contradiction or, at the very least, forgetfulness, for not so long ago the youth was being accused of betrayal, or having (or not having) virtue which did not match the outward show, or being a festering lily. But all that is now forgotten and the poet is happy to present him once more as the epitome of truth and beauty.
http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/101


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Sonnet 102

My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear;
That love is merchandized, whose rich esteeming,
The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,
And stops his pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough,
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
Therefore like her, I sometime hold my tongue:
Because I would not dull you with my song.


Η αγάπη μου άντρειεψε κι ας δείχνει αδυναμία,
δεν ελιγόστεψε αν λιγότερη φαντάζει·
η αγάπη εμπόριο είν’ αν την πλούσια της αξία
παντού όποιου την έχει η γλώσσα το φωνάζει.
Η αγάπη μας νέα ήταν, ήταν εαρινή,
τότε που με τραγούδια μου τη χαιρετούσα,
καθώς η Φιλομήλα εαρινά λαλεί,
και παύει όταν η ημέρα βάλει θέρου λούσα.
Χαίρεται και το θέρος, μα όταν θρηνωδεί
με τι καημό γλυκό τη νύχτα ημερώνει,
γοητεύει η άγρια μουσική κάθε κλαδί,
μα η γλύκα όταν παραγίνει ξελιγώνει.
Κι εγώ όμοια σαν εκείνη κάποτε σωπαίνω,
δε θέλω με τραγούδια μου να σε πικραίνω.


Μετάφραση: Βασίλης Ρώτας

The poet continues to excuse his recent silence by saying that it is a sign of his increased love. Even the nightingale's song would become tedious if it were spread throughout the entire summer, when every other common bird was singing. It is noticeable in this sonnet that the imagery almost takes command, and what in the beginning started as praise of the youth becomes a separate delight in the manifestations of early summer, as the days ripen, and birds sing from every tree. Finally the poet puts an end to it all, and insists that silence is best, since the beauty of their love does not need a prattling tongue to enliven it with song.
http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/102


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Sonnet 103

Alack! what poverty my Muse brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argument all bare is of more worth
Than when it hath my added praise beside!
O! blame me not, if I no more can write!
Look in your glass, and there appears a face
That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.
Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well?
For to no other pass my verses tend
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;
And more, much more, than in my verse can sit,
Your own glass shows you when you look in it.


Ωιμέ, τι φτώχεια η μούσα μου παρουσιάζει
που ενώ ’χει θέμα που εξυψώνει κάθε πένα,
ολόγυμνο το ίδιο πιο πολύ ζυγιάζει,
παρ’ όσο αν έχει πρόσβαρο έπαινο από μένα.
Ω, μη με ψέγεις αν δε γράφω πιο πολλά,
δες στον καθρέφτη σου, μιαν όψη εκεί θα ιδείς
που πάει απ’ την οκνή έμπνευσή μου πιο μπροστά,
τους στίχους μου χαλάει, με κάνει της ντροπής.
Αν κόπιαζα να διόρθωνα, δε θα ’ταν κρίμα
να στρεβλώνω το θέμα που ήταν πριν καλό;
Γιατί δε μου τραβάει για τίποτ’ άλλο η ρίμα
παρά τα κάλλη σου, τις χάρες σου να ειπώ.
Και πάνω απ’ όσα ο στίχος μου χωράει θα ιδούν
τα μάτια σου, όταν στον καθρέφτη κοιταχτούν.


Μετάφραση: Βασίλης Ρώτας

The poet again parades his modesty, portraying himself as an indifferent poet who cannot adequately sing the worth of his beloved. But of course the poem itself contradicts this stance, and the poet, despite his disclaimers, is probably well aware of the relative merits of his verse when set against the youth's own frivolity and the worth of a lasting and true relationship. Yet he shows his generosity by degrading his talents to a humble level and putting the youth on the customary high pedestal. The closing couplet is perhaps double edged in that the 'more, much more' which the mirror shows is the effect of the encroachment of lines and wrinkles. The following sonnet pretends to deny this perception, saying it is unworthy of notice. But alas, the face which Narcissus saw, when he gazed at his own image reflected in the water, was the face of time and death.
http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/103


 

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