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SONNET XXIII Music by Valentin Dubovskoy lyrics by William Shakespeare As an unperfect actor on the stage who with his fear is put besides his part, or some fierce thing replete with too much rage, whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart. So I, for fear of trust, forget to say the perfect ceremony of love's rite, and in mine own love's strength seem to decay, o'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might. O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presagers of my speaking breast, who plead for love and look for recompense more than that tongue that more hath more express'd. O, learn to read what silent love hath writ: to hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit. |
СОНЕТ
XXIII Музыка Валентина Дубовского слова Уильяма Шекспира, перевод Самуила Маршака Как тот актёр, который, оробев, теряет нить давно знакомой роли, как тот безумец, что, впадая в гнев, в избытке сил теряет силу воли, – так я молчу, не зная, что сказать, не оттого, что сердце охладело. Нет, на мои уста кладёт печать моя любовь, которой нет предела. Так пусть же книга говорит с тобой. Пускай она, безмолвный мой ходатай, идёт к тебе с признаньем и мольбой и справедливой требует расплаты. Прочтёшь ли ты слова любви немой? Услышишь ли глазами голос мой? |
| As an un-per-fect ac-tor on the stage who with his fear is put be-sides his part, or some fierce thing re-plete with too much rage, whose strengths a-bun-dance weak-ens his own heart. So I, for fear of trust, for-get to say the per-fect cer-e-mo-ny of loves rite, and in mine own loves strength seem to de-cay, o'er-charged with bur-den of mine own loves might. O, let my books be then the e-lo-quence and dumb pre-sag-ers of my speak-ing breast, who plead for love and look for re-com-pense more than that tongue that more hath more ex-pressd. O, learn to read what si-lent love hath writ: to hear with eyes be-longs to loves fine wit. |
20(8)G 15(3)D 35(11)B
39(3)D 34(10)A 4(4)D# 53(5)E 29(5)E 33(9)G# 52(4)D# |