23 sept.
„Sonet LXXXV” de William Shakespeare
| My tongue-tied muse in manners holds her still, While comments of your praise, richly compiled, Reserve thy character with golden quill, And precious phrase by all the muses filed. |
E potolită muza mea, sărmana, numai tălmacii slavei tale, iată, în litere de aur moaie pana, scriind cu toate muzele deodată. |
| I think good thoughts, whilst other write good words, And like unlettered clerk still cry „Amen” To every hymn that able spirit affords In polished form of well-refinèd pen. |
Gândesc de bine, altul gându-mi scrie, copist cam necioplit, eu strig „Amin!” la fiecare imn ce îl învie condeiul cel de strălucire plin. |
| Hearing you praised, I say „‘Tis so, ‘tis true”, And to the most of praise add something more; But that is in my thought, whose love to you, Though words come hindmost, holds his rank before. |
Eşti lăudat şi strig „Aşa-i!” şi-n turmă adaug încă laudei grozave cuvinte (nerostite) spuse-n urmă, dar primele urcând în epitafe… |
| Then others for the breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect. |
Iubeşte-n alţii vorbele-puzderii şi-n mine numai vocile tăcerii… |
| William Shakespeare | traducere de Gheorghe Tomozei |