ΣΟΝΕΤΤΑ ΓΙΑ ΤΟ ΣΟΝΕΤΤΟ 1

DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI (1828-1882)


A SONNET

A Sonnet is a moment's monument,--
Memorial from the Soul's eternity
To one dead deathless hour. Look that it be,
Whether for lustral rite or dire portent,

Of its own arduous fulness reverent:
Carve it in ivory or in ebony,
As Day or Night may rule; and let Time see
Its flowering crest impearled and orient.

A Sonnet is a coin: its face reveals
The soul,--its converse, to what Power 'tis due:--
Whether for tribute to the august appeals

Of Life, or dower in Love's high retinue,
It serve, or, 'mid the dark wharf's cavernous breath,
In Charon's palm it pay the toll to Death.

Ο ΝΤΑΝΤΕ ΓΚΑΜΠΡΙΕΛ ΡΟΣΕΤΤΙ ΜΕΤΑΦΡΑΖΕΙ ΓΚΟΥΕΡΤΣΟ ΝΤΙ ΜΟΝΤΕΚΑΝΤΙ

GUERZO DI MONTECANTI (13ος αιώνας)


HE IS OUT OF HEART WITH HIS TIME

If any man would know the very cause
Which makes me to forget my speech in rhyme,
All the sweet songs I sang in other time,--
I'll tell it in a sonnet's simple clause.

I hourly have beheld how good withdraws
To nothing, and how evil mounts the while:
Until my heart is gnawed as with a file,
Nor aught of this world's worth is what it was.

At last there is no other remedy
But to behold the universal end;
And so upon this hope my thoughts are urged:

To whom, since truth is sunk and dead at sea,
There has no other part or prayer remain'd
Except of seeing the world's self submerged.




Μετάφραση: Dante Gabriel Rossetti.

Το μετάφρασμα μάς το έστειλε η εικονιζόμενη φίλη του ιστολογίου κ. Fernanda Mello.

ΤΗΝ ΠΡΑΓΜΑΤΙΚΗ ΑΙΤΙΑ

GUERZO DI MONTECANTI (13ος αιώνας)


HE IS OUT OF HEART WITH HIS TIME

If any man would know the very cause
Which makes me to forget my speech in rhyme,
All the sweet songs I sang in other time,--
I'll tell it in a sonnet's simple clause.
I hourly have beheld how good withdraws
To nothing, and how evil mounts the while:
Until my heart is gnawed as with a file,
Nor aught of this world's worth is what it was.
At last there is no other remedy
But to behold the universal end;
And so upon this hope my thoughts are urged:
To whom, since truth is sunk and dead at sea,
There has no other part or prayer remain'd
Except of seeing the world's self submerged.




Μετάφραση: Dante Gabriel Rossetti.

ΝΤΑΝΤΕ ΓΚΑΜΠΡΙΕΛ ΡΟΣΕΤΙ

DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI (1828-1882)


THE MOONSTAR

Lady, I thank thee for thy loveliness,
Because my lady is more lovely still.
Glorying I gaze, and yield with glad goodwill
To thee thy tribute; by whose sweet-spun dress
Of delicate life Love labours to assess
My lady's absolute queendom; saying, "Lo!
How high this beauty is, which yet doth show
But as that beauty's sovereign votaress."

Lady, I saw thee with her, side by side;
And as, when night's fair fires their queen surround,
An emulous star too near the moon will ride,--
Even so thy rays within her luminous bound
Were traced no more; and by the light so drown'd,
Lady, not thou but she was glorified.



Το ποίημα μάς το έστειλε η φίλη του ιστολογίου κ. Luisa Corna.