Nick Malic - Sonnet 62
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Nick Malic - Sonnet 62 - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
And all my soul and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
No shape so true, no truth of such account;
And for myself mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me myself indeed,
Beated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
'Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
Painting my age with beauty of thy days.
Любовь к себе моим владеет взором.
Она проникла в кровь мою и плоть.
И есть ли средство на земле, которым
Я эту слабость, мог бы побороть?
Мне кажется, нет равных красотою,
Правдивей нет на свете никого.
Мне кажется, так дорого я стою,
Как ни одно земное существо.
Когда же невзначай в зеркальной глади
Я вижу настоящий образ свой
В морщинах лет, - на этот образ глядя,
Я сознаюсь в ошибке роковой.
Себя, мой друг, я подменял тобою,
Век уходящий - юною судьбою.
And all my soul and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
No shape so true, no truth of such account;
And for myself mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me myself indeed,
Beated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
'Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
Painting my age with beauty of thy days.
Любовь к себе моим владеет взором.
Она проникла в кровь мою и плоть.
И есть ли средство на земле, которым
Я эту слабость, мог бы побороть?
Мне кажется, нет равных красотою,
Правдивей нет на свете никого.
Мне кажется, так дорого я стою,
Как ни одно земное существо.
Когда же невзначай в зеркальной глади
Я вижу настоящий образ свой
В морщинах лет, - на этот образ глядя,
Я сознаюсь в ошибке роковой.
Себя, мой друг, я подменял тобою,
Век уходящий - юною судьбою.
Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
And all my soul and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded forward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
no shape so true, no truth of such account;
And for myself mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me myself indeed,
beaten and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
'Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
Painting my age with the beauty of your days.
Love for myself owns my eyes.
She penetrated my blood and flesh.
And is there a remedy on earth by which
I could overcome this weakness?
It seems to me that there is no equal beauty,
There is no one more truthful in the world.
I feel like I'm worth so much
Like no earthly creature.
When by chance in the mirror surface
I see my true image
In the wrinkles of years - looking at this image,
I confess to a fatal mistake.
I replaced myself, my friend, with you,
The passing age is a young fate.
And all my soul and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded forward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
no shape so true, no truth of such account;
And for myself mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me myself indeed,
beaten and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
'Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
Painting my age with the beauty of your days.
Love for myself owns my eyes.
She penetrated my blood and flesh.
And is there a remedy on earth by which
I could overcome this weakness?
It seems to me that there is no equal beauty,
There is no one more truthful in the world.
I feel like I'm worth so much
Like no earthly creature.
When by chance in the mirror surface
I see my true image
In the wrinkles of years - looking at this image,
I confess to a fatal mistake.
I replaced myself, my friend, with you,
The passing age is a young fate.