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Просьба: придерживаться 5-ти стопного ямба с чередованием мужской и женской рифмы.
Литературные практики по теме Английский сонет Елизаветинской эпохи (перевод) будут проходить (ориентировочно) до середины января 2022 года.
Авторам предлагается совершить литературную интернет экспедицию став современниками Потрясающего копьем (Шекспира) и попробовать свои силы в переводе английского сонета, в поиске малоизвестных в России авторов и текстов того времени и создать свои тематические авторские сборники.
На данной странице будут размещаться, по мере работы практик, сонеты английских авторов (по 12-ть текстов), задача:
- сделать художественный перевод одного или всех сонетов;
- найти историю написания сонета и написать рассказ о сонете;
- выбрать одного автора, его сонеты и создать по ним цикл (12);
- создать тематический цикл сонетов нескольких авторов, посвященный теме, связанный с историческими событиями, личностями, мировоззрением той эпохи;
- в средние века была модна тайнопись, создать цикл сонетов с криптами;
- предложить свои идеи и варианты работы по данной теме.
ПРИМЕР рассказа о сонете и его перевода можно посмотреть: http://stihi.ru/2021/11/13/6242
Первая подборка практик: http://stihi.ru/2021/11/15/2504
(принять участие в работе приглашаются все желающие)
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Вторая подборка практик:
ГНЕЗДО ПЕВЧИХ ПТИЦ II
13. The glorious Grekis in stately style do blaise / James I, King (1566–1625)
14. Who taught thee first to sigh, alas, my heart / Edward de Vere (1550-1604)
15. The hardness of her heart and truth of mine / John Davies (1569–1626)
16. My wicked flesh, O Lord, with sin full fraight / Henry Lok (1553-1608)
17. Sweete Soueraigne sith so many mynds ramayne / Henry Constable (1562-1613)
18. Fidessa fair! long live a happy maiden / Bartholomew Griffin ( 15…-1602)
19. Cherry-lipped Adonis in his snowy shape / Richard Barnfield (1574-1620)
20. With heat and cold I feel the spiteful fiend / William Alabaster (1567-1640)
21. Oh pleasing thoughts, apprentices of love / Thomas Lodge (1558-1625)
22. Lord, when I thinke how I offend thy will / Nicholas Breton (1545-1626)
23. Now, while amid those dainty downs and dales / Alexander Craig (1567-1627)
24. Look how the pale queen of the silent night / Charles Best (1570-1627)
* * * James I, King (1566–1625)
The glorious Grekis in stately style do blaise
The lawde, the conqurour gaue their Homer olde:
The verses Caesar song in Maroes praise,
The Romanis in remembrance depe haue rolde.
Ye Thespian Nymphes, that suppe the Nectar colde,
That from Parnassis forked topp doth fall,
What Alexander or Augustus bolde,
May sound his fame, whose vertewes passe them all?
O Phoebus, for thy help, heir might I call,
And on Minerue, and Maias learned sonne:
But since I know, none was, none is, nor shall,
Can rightly ring the fame that he hath wonne,
Then stay your trauels, lay your pennis adowne,
For C?sars works, shall iustly Csar crowne.
*** Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford (1550 - 1604)
Who taught thee first to sigh, alas, my heart?
Who taught thy tongue the woeful words of plaint?
Who filled your eyes with tears of bitter smart?
Who gave thee grief, and made thy joys to faint?
Who first did paint with colors pale thy face?
Who first did break thy sleeps of quiet rest?
Above the rest in court who gave thee grace?
Who made thee strive, in honor to be best?
In constant truth to bide so firm and sure?
To scorn the world, regarding but thy friends?
With patient mind each passion to endure?
In one desire to settle to the end?
Love then thy choice, wherein such choice thou bind
As nought but death may ever change thy mind.
*** John Davies (1569–1626)
The hardness of her heart and truth of mine
When the all-seeing eyes of heaven did see,
They straight concluded that by power divine
To other forms our hearts should turn;d be.
Then hers, as hard as flint, a flint became,
And mine, as true as steel, to steel was turned;
And then between our hearts sprang forth the flame
Of kindest love, which unextinguished burned.
And long the sacred lamp of mutual love
Incessantly did burn in glory bright,
Until my folly did her fury move
To recompense my service with despite;
And to put out with snuffers of her pride
The lamp of love which else had never died.
*** Henry Lok (1553 -1608)
Sonet XLIIIII
From the “First Centurie of Sonets”
MY wicked flesh, O Lord, with sin full fraight,
Whose eye doth lust for euerie earthly thing,
By couetise allurde, hath bit the baight
That me to Satan’s seruitude will bring.
By violence I vertue’s right would wring
Out of possession of the soule so weake,
Like vineyard which the wicked Achab king
Possest by tirant’s power, which lawes do breake.
Let prophets thine, Lord, to my soule so speake,
That in repentant sackcloth I may mone
The murther of thy grace which I did wreake,
Whilst to my natiue strength I trust alone:
And let my Sauiour so prolong my daies,
That henceforth I may turne from sinfull waies.
*** Henry Constable (1562-1613)
Of the prowesse of his Ladie
Sweete Soueraigne sith so many mynds ramayne
Obedient subiects at thy beautyes call
So many thoughts bound in thy hayre as thrall
So many hearts dye with one lookes disdayne
Goe seeke that glorie which doth thee pertayne
That the fift monarchie may thee befall
Thow hast such meanes to conquer men withall
As all the world must yeeld or else be slayne
To fight thow needst no weapons but thyne eyes
Thy hayre hath gold enough to pay thy men
And for theyre foode thy beautie will suffice
For men and armoure (Ladie) care haue none
For one will soonest yeeld vnto thee then
When he shall meet thee naked and alone
*** Bartholomew Griffin (15…-1602)
SONNET 1
Fertur Fortunam Fortuna favere ferenti.
(It is said that fortune favours a winner.)
Fidessa fair! long live a happy maiden!
Blest from thy cradle, by a worthy Mother,
High-thoughted, like to her, with bounty laden,
Like pleasing grace affording, one and other.
Sweet model of thy far renown;d Sire!
Hold back awhile thy ever-giving hand!
And thought these free penned lines do nought require
(For that they scorn at base Reward to stand),
Yet crave they most, for that they beg the least!
Dumb is the message of my hidden grief,
And store of Speech by silence is increased;
O let me die, or purchase some relief!
Bounteous FIDESSA cannot be so cruel
As for to make my heart her Fancy's fuel!
*** Richard Barnfield (1574- 1620)
Sonnet 17
Cherry-lipped Adonis in his snowy shape,
Might not compare with his pure ivory white,
On whose fair front a poet's pen might write,
Whose rosiate red excels the crimson grape.
His love-enticing delicate soft limbs,
Are rarely framed t' intrap poor gazing eyes;
His cheeks, the lily and carnation dyes,
With lovely tincture which Apollo's dims.
His lips ripe strawberries in nectar wet,
His mouth a hive, his tongue a honeycomb,
Where muses (like bees) make their mansion.
His teeth pure pearl in blushing coral set.
Oh how can such a body sin-procuring,
Be slow to love, and quick to hate, enduring?
*** William Alabaster (1567-1640)
Upon the Motions of the Fiend
With heat and cold I feel the spiteful fiend
To work one mischief by two contraries,
With lust he doth me scorch, with languor frееzе,
But lust and languor both one Christ offend.
Let contraries with contraries contend,
Let fear of blame and love of Christ arise,
Hot love of Christ to melt in tears mine eyes,
Cold fear of just reproach my shame to extend,
That shame with heat may cool my looser thought,
And tears with cold heat my heart's sluggish deep.
O happy I if that such grace were wrought!
Till then, shame blush because tears cannot weep,
And tears weep you because shame cannot blush,
Till shame from tears, and tears from shame do flush.
*** Thomas Lodge (1558-1625)
SONNET 1
Oh pleasing thoughts, apprentices of love,
Fore-runners of desire, sweet mithridates
The poison of my sorrows to remove,
With whom my hopes and fears full oft debates!
Enrich yourselves and me by your self riches,
Which are the thoughts you spend on heaven-bred beauty,
Rouse you my muse beyond our poets' pitches,
And, working wonders, yet say all is duty!
Use you no eaglets' eyes, nor phoenix feathers,
To tower the heaven from whence heaven's wonder sallies.
For why? Your sun sings sweetly to her weathers,
Making a spring of winter in the valleys.
Show to the world, though poor and scant my skill is,
How sweet thoughts be, that are but thoughts on Phillis.
*** Nicholas Breton (1545-1626)
From “The Soules Harmony.”
LORD, when I thinke how I offend thy will,
And know what good is in obedience to it,
And see my hurt, and yet continue still
In doing ill, and cannot leaue to do it;
And then againe doe feele that bitter smart
That inward breeds of pleasures after-paine,
When scarce the thought is entred in my heart
But it is gone, and sinne gets in againe:
And when againe the act of sinne is past,
And that thy grace doth call me backe againe,
Then in my teares I runne to thee as fast,
And of my sinnes and of myselfe complayne:
What can I doe but cry, Sweet Iesus, saue me?
For I am nothing but what thou wilt haue me.
*** Alexander Craig (1567-1627)
Now, while amid those dainty downs and dales
With shepherd swains I sit, unknown to me,
We sweetly sing and tell pastoral tales,
But my discourse and song's theme is of thee.
For otherways, alas, how can it be?
Let Venus leave her blest abode above
To tempt my love, yet thou, sweet soul, shalt see
That I thy man and thou shalt die my love.
No tract of time nor sad eclipse of place
Nor absence long, which sometime were due cures
To my disease, shall make thy slave to cease
From serving thee till life or breath endures;
And till we meet, my rustic mates and I
Through woods and plains Pandora's praise shall cry.
*** Charles Best (1570-1627)
A Sonnet of the Moon
Look how the pale queen of the silent night
Doth cause the ocean to attend upon her,
And he, as long as she is in his sight,
With her full tide is ready her to honor.
But when the silver waggon of the moon
Is mounted up so high he cannot follow,
The sea calls home his crystal waves to moan,
And with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow.
So you that are the sovereign of my heart
Have all my joys attending on your will;
My joys low-ebbing when you do depart,
When you return their tide my heart doth fill.
So as you come and as you do depart,
Joys ebb and flow within my tender heart.
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