.
Сонет Елизаветинской эпохи III (Подборка текстов для перевода)
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
Вторая подборка практик: http://stihi.ru/2021/11/19/4208
(принять участие в работе приглашаются все желающие)
ГНЕЗДО ПЕВЧИХ ПТИЦ III
Содержание
25. Гэбриэл Харви / Gabriel Harvey (1550-1630)
26. Генри Петоу / Henry Petowe (1575-1636)
27. Генри Андерсон / Henry Anderson (15??-16??)
28. Джон Тейлор / John Taylor (1580-1653)
29. Джон Дэвис / John Davies of Hereford (1565-1618)
30. Эдвард Дайер /Sir Edward Dyer (1543-1607)
31. Джеймс Йетс / James Yates (15??-16??)
32. Ричард Линч / Richard Lynche (15??-16??)
33. Томас Уотсон / Thomas Watson (1557-1592)
34. Уильям Фаулер / William Fowler (1560–1612)
35. Уильям Смит / William Smith (15??-16??)
36. Уильям Перси / William Percy (1575-1648)
25. Гэбриэл Харви / Gabriel Harvey (1550-1630)
SONNET I.
His Repentance, that meant to call Greene to his aunsweare.
ALas that I so hastely should come,
To terrifie the man with fatall dread,
That deemed quiet Pennes, or dead, or dum,
And stoutly knock't poore Silence on the head.
Enough can say: dead is the Dog of spite:
I, that for pitie praised him aliue,
And smil'd to heare him gnar, and see him bite,
Am not with sory carcasses to striue.
The worst I list of Famous him report:
Poules hath the Onely Pregnant Autor lost:
Aihme, quoth Wit in lamentable sort,
VVhat worthy wight shall now commaund the rost?
Fame heard the plaint: and pointed at A man,
As greene as Greene, and white as whitest Swanne.
26. Генри Петоу / Henry Petowe (1575-1636?)
THEN 1 withered the primrose of delight,
Hanging the head ore sorrowe’s garden wall,
When you might see all pleasures shun the light,
And love obscuer, at Eliza’s fall—
Her fall from life to death: oh! stay not there;
Though she were dead, the shril-tong’d trump of heaven
Rais’d her again: think that you see her heere,
E’en heere,—oh, where? not heere; shee ’s hence bereaven;
For sweet Eliza in Elizium lives,
In joy beyond all thought. Then weepe no more,
Your sighing weedes put off; for weeping gives
(Wayling her losse) as seeming to deplore
Our future toward fortunes: mourne not, then;
You cease awhile, but now you weepe agen.
27. Генри Андерсон / Henry Anderson (15??-16??)
The Blessedness of Serving God
OF monarchs he to Him is great alone
Who to himself becomes a little one.
The only greatness which poore man can have
Is to be here his Great Redeemer’s slave.
That king that doth not heav’n’s just King obey,
A traitor is himself to majesty.
The simple shepherd who with chaste desires
And cheerful innocence to heav’n aspires;
The honest, painful labourer, who sweats
From morn to night, to get the bread he eats;
If he serves heaven, is indeed more great
Than kings, with all their pride and purple state.
Thrice brave those monarchs who had dar’d to fly
From all the alluring charms of majesty.
28. Джон Тейлор / John Taylor (1580-1653)
Mockado, Fustian, and Motley
Sweet semi-circled Cynthia played at maw,
The whilst Endymion ran the wild-goose chase:
Great Bacchus with his cross-bow killed a daw,
And sullen Saturn smiled with pleasant face:
The ninefold Bugbears of the Caspian lake
Sat whistling ebon hornpipes to their ducks;
Madge-owlet straight for joy her girdle brake,
And rugged Satyrs frisked like stags and bucks:
The untamed tumbling fifteen-footed Goat
With promulgation of the Lesbian shores
Confronted Hydra in a sculler boat,
At which the mighty mountain Taurus roars;
Meantime great Sultan Soliman was born,
And Atlas blew his rustic rumbling horn.
29. Джон Дэвис / John Davies of Hereford (1565-1618)
Some blaze the precious beauties of their loves
By precious stones, and other some by flowers,
Some by the planets and celestial powers,
Or by what else their fancy best approves;
Yet I by none of these will blazon mine,
But only say her self herself is like,
For those similitudes I much mislike
That are much used, though they be divine.
In saying she is like herself, I say
She hath no like, for she is past compare.
Then who aright commends this creature rare
Must say, "She is"; and there of force must stay,
Because by words she cannot be expressed;
So say, "She is," and wond'ring owe the rest.
31. Джеймс Йетс / James Yates (15??-16??)
A Sonnet of a Slaunderous Tongue
OF all the plagues that raine on mortall wightes,
Yet is there none like to a slaunderous tongue;
Which brings debate, and filles each heart with spights,
And enemy is as well to old as young.
In my conceipt they doe more hurte, I sweare,
Then stinking toades, that loathsome are to sighte.
For why? Such tongues cannot conceale and beare,
But vtter forth that which workes most despite.
They do more hurt then casting pooles in meade,
Which doe turne up the blacke earth on the greene:
Their poysoned speach doth serue in little steade;
They practise spite, as dayly it is seene.
O Lorde, I pray from singlenesse of heart,
Such slanderous tongues reforme, and eke conuert.
32. Ричард Линч / Richard Lynche (15??-16??)
Soon as the azure-colored gates of th' east
Were set wide open by the watchful morn,
I walked abroad, as having took no rest
(For nights are tedious to a man forlorn);
And viewing well each pearl-bedew;d flower,
Then waxing dry by splendor of the sun,
All scarlet-hued I saw him 'gin to lour
And blush, as though some heinous act were done.
At this amazed, I hied me home amain,
Thinking that I his anger caus;d had.
And at his set, abroad I walked again;
When lo, the moon looked wondrous pale and sad:
Anger the one, and envy moved the other,
To see my love more fair than Love's fair mother.
33. Томас Уотсон / Thomas Watson (1557-1592)
I saw the object of my pining thought
Within a garden of sweet nature's placing,
Wherein an arbor, artificial wrought
By workman's wondrous skill, the garden gracing,
Did boast his glory, glory far renowned,
For in his shady boughs my mistress slept;
And with a garland of his branches crowned,
Her dainty forehead from the sun ykept.
Imperious love upon her eyelids tending,
Playing his wanton sports at every beck
And into every finest limb descending
From eyes to lips, from lips to ivory neck,
And every limb supplied, and t'every part
Had free access, but durst not touch her heart.
34. Уильям Фаулер / William Fowler (1560-1612)
When as my minde exemed was from caire,
Among the Nymphis my self I did repose:
Where I gaue eare to one, who did prepaire
Her sugred voice this sequele to disclose.
Conveine your selfs (; sisters) doe not lose
This passing tyme which hasteth fast away:
And thow who wrytes in stately verse and prose,
This glorious Kings immortall gloire display.
Tell how he doeth in tender yearis essay
Aboue his age with skill our arts to blaise.
Tell how he doeth with gratitude repay
The crowne he wan for his deserued praise.
Tell how of Ioue, of Mars, but more of God.
The gloire and grace he hath proclaimed abrod.
35. Уильям Смит / William Smith (15??-16??)
Colin, my dear and most entire beloved
My muse audacious stoops her pitch to thee,
Desireing that thy patience be not moved
By these rude lines, written here you see;
Fain would my muse, whom cruel love hath wronged,
Shroud her love-labors under thy protection,
And I myself with ardent zeal have longed
That thou mightst know to thee my true affection.
Therefore, good Colin, graciously accept
A few sad sonnets which my muse hath framed;
Though they but newly from the shell are crept,
Suffer them not by envy to be blamed.
But underneath the shadow of thy wings
Give warmth to these young-hatch;d orphan things.
36. Уильям Перси / William Percy (1575-1648)
Judged by my goddess' doom to endless pain,
Lo, here I ope my sorrow's passion,
That every silly eye may view most plain
A sentence given on no occasion.
If that by chance they fall (most fortunate)
Within those cruel hands that did enact it,
Say but, Alas, he was too passionate,
My doom is passed, nor can be now unactit.
So mayst thou see I was a spotless lover,
And grieve withal that e'er thou dealt so sore;
Unto remorse who goes about to move her
Pursues the wing;d winds, and tills the shore.
Lovely is her semblance, hard is her heart,
Wavering is her mind, sure is her dart.
30. Эдвард Дайер /Sir Edward Dyer (1543-1607)
Prometheus, when first from heaven high
He brought down fire, till then on earth not seen;
Fond of delight, a satyr, standing by,
Gave it a kiss, as it like sweet had been.
Feeling forthwith the other burning power,
Wood with the smart, with shouts and shrieking shrill,
He sought his ease in river, field, and bower;
But, for the time, his grief went with him still.
So silly I, with that unwonted sight,
In human shape an angel from above,
Feeding mine eyes, th' impression there did light;
That since I run and rest as pleaseth love:
The difference is, the satyr's lips, my heart,
He for a while, I evermore, have smart.