Алла Пугачева - Шекспир. Сонет 90
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В. Шекспир Сонет №90
Уж если ты разлюбишь - так теперь,
Теперь, когда весь мир со мной в раздоре.
Будь самой горькой из моих потерь,
Но только не последней каплей горя!
И если скорбь дано мне превозмочь,
Не наноси удара из засады.
Пусть бурная не разрешится ночь
Дождливым утром - утром без отрады.
Оставь меня, но не в последний миг,
Когда от мелких бед я ослабею.
Оставь сейчас, чтоб сразу я постиг,
Что это горе всех невзгод больнее,
Что нет невзгод, а есть одна беда -
Твоей любви лишиться навсегда.
пер.С.Маршака
***
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah! do not, when my heart hath 'scap'd this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purpos'd overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come: so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might;
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compar'd with loss of thee, will not seem so.
Уж если ты разлюбишь - так теперь,
Теперь, когда весь мир со мной в раздоре.
Будь самой горькой из моих потерь,
Но только не последней каплей горя!
И если скорбь дано мне превозмочь,
Не наноси удара из засады.
Пусть бурная не разрешится ночь
Дождливым утром - утром без отрады.
Оставь меня, но не в последний миг,
Когда от мелких бед я ослабею.
Оставь сейчас, чтоб сразу я постиг,
Что это горе всех невзгод больнее,
Что нет невзгод, а есть одна беда -
Твоей любви лишиться навсегда.
пер.С.Маршака
***
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah! do not, when my heart hath 'scap'd this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purpos'd overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come: so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might;
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compar'd with loss of thee, will not seem so.
V. Shakespeare Sonnet No. 90
If you stop loving - so now
Now that the whole world is with me in disconnection.
Be the bitter of my losses
But not the last drop of grief!
And if the sorrow is given to me to overcome,
Do not strike from an ambush.
Let the stormy not be resolved night
Rainy morning - in the morning without joy.
Leave me, but not at the last moment,
When I am weakened by small troubles.
Leave now so that I immediately comprehend,
That this is the grief of all adversity more pain
That there is no hardships, but there is one trouble -
Your love to lose forever.
P.S. Marshak
***
The Hate Me When Thou Wilt; IF Ever, Now;
Now, While the World Is Bent My Deeds to Cross,
Join with the Spite of Fortune, Make Me Bow,
And do not drop in for an after -loss:
AH! Do Not, When My Heart Hath 'Scap'd this Sorrow,
Come in the Rearward of a Conquer'd Woe;
Give Not a Windy Night a Rain Morrow,
To LINGER OUT A PURPOS'D Overthrow.
IF Thou Wilt Leave Me, Do Not Leave Me Last,
When Other Petty Griefs have Done Their Spite,
But in the ONSET COME: so shall i taste
At first the Very Worst of Fortune's Might;
And Other Stranins of Woe, Which Now Seem Woe,
Compar'd with loss of thee, Will Not Seem Soem.
If you stop loving - so now
Now that the whole world is with me in disconnection.
Be the bitter of my losses
But not the last drop of grief!
And if the sorrow is given to me to overcome,
Do not strike from an ambush.
Let the stormy not be resolved night
Rainy morning - in the morning without joy.
Leave me, but not at the last moment,
When I am weakened by small troubles.
Leave now so that I immediately comprehend,
That this is the grief of all adversity more pain
That there is no hardships, but there is one trouble -
Your love to lose forever.
P.S. Marshak
***
The Hate Me When Thou Wilt; IF Ever, Now;
Now, While the World Is Bent My Deeds to Cross,
Join with the Spite of Fortune, Make Me Bow,
And do not drop in for an after -loss:
AH! Do Not, When My Heart Hath 'Scap'd this Sorrow,
Come in the Rearward of a Conquer'd Woe;
Give Not a Windy Night a Rain Morrow,
To LINGER OUT A PURPOS'D Overthrow.
IF Thou Wilt Leave Me, Do Not Leave Me Last,
When Other Petty Griefs have Done Their Spite,
But in the ONSET COME: so shall i taste
At first the Very Worst of Fortune's Might;
And Other Stranins of Woe, Which Now Seem Woe,
Compar'd with loss of thee, Will Not Seem Soem.
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