Уильям Шекспир - Сонет 1
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Уильям Шекспир - Сонет 1 - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light'st flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content
And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding.
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
Потомства от существ прекрасны все хотят,
Чтоб в мире красота цвела - не умирала:
Пусть зрелая краса от времени увяла -
Е╠ ростки о ней нам память сохранят.
Но ты, чей гордый взор никто не привлекает,
А светлый пламень сам свой пыл в себе питает,
Там голод сея, где избыток должен быть -
Ты сам свой злейший враг, готовый вс╠ сгубить.
Ты, лучший из людей, природы украшенья,
И вестник молодой пленительной весны,
Замкнувшись, сам в себе хоронишь счастья сны
И сеешь вкруг себя одно опустошенье.
Ты пожалей хоть мир - упасть ему не дай
И, как земля, даров его не пожирай.
From Fairest Creatures We Desire Increase,
Thatby Beauty's Rose Might Never Die,
But as the riper shoup bytme decease,
HIS Tender Heir Might Bear His Memory:
But Thou, Contracted to Thine Own Bright Eyes,
Feed'st Thy Light'st Flame with Self-Substantial Fuel,
Making A Famine Where Abundance Lies,
Thyself Thy Foe, to Thy Sweet Self too Cruel.
Thout art now the World's Fresh Ornament
And only herald to the Gaudy Spring,
Within Thine Own Bud Buriest Thy Content
And, Tender Churl, Makest Waste in Niggarding.
Pity The World, Or Else this Glutton Be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and the.
The offspring from creatures are beautiful, everyone wants
So that beauty blooms in the world - does not die:
Let the mature beauty have faded from time to time -
E╠ sprouts about it will keep our memory.
But you whose proud gaze no one attracts,
And the light flame itself feeds its ardor in itself,
There is a sowing hunger, where there should be an excess -
You yourself are your worst enemy, ready to ruin.
You are the best of people, the nature of decoration,
And the messenger of young captivating spring,
By closing, you will bury dreams in yourself
And you sow one devastation in yourself.
You regret at least the world - don't let him fall
And, like the earth, do not devour it.
Thatby Beauty's Rose Might Never Die,
But as the riper shoup bytme decease,
HIS Tender Heir Might Bear His Memory:
But Thou, Contracted to Thine Own Bright Eyes,
Feed'st Thy Light'st Flame with Self-Substantial Fuel,
Making A Famine Where Abundance Lies,
Thyself Thy Foe, to Thy Sweet Self too Cruel.
Thout art now the World's Fresh Ornament
And only herald to the Gaudy Spring,
Within Thine Own Bud Buriest Thy Content
And, Tender Churl, Makest Waste in Niggarding.
Pity The World, Or Else this Glutton Be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and the.
The offspring from creatures are beautiful, everyone wants
So that beauty blooms in the world - does not die:
Let the mature beauty have faded from time to time -
E╠ sprouts about it will keep our memory.
But you whose proud gaze no one attracts,
And the light flame itself feeds its ardor in itself,
There is a sowing hunger, where there should be an excess -
You yourself are your worst enemy, ready to ruin.
You are the best of people, the nature of decoration,
And the messenger of young captivating spring,
By closing, you will bury dreams in yourself
And you sow one devastation in yourself.
You regret at least the world - don't let him fall
And, like the earth, do not devour it.
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