Сонеты Шекспира: Вдохновение реальностью. Историческая головоломка. Александр Скальв

      Сонет 3. Оригинальный текст

      Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest,

      Now is the time that face should form another,

      Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,

      Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

      For where is she so fair whose uneared womb

      Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?

      Or who is he so fond will be the tomb

      Of his self-love to stop posterity?

      Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee

      Calls back the lovely April of her prime;

      So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,

      Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.

      But if thou live rememb’red not to be,

      Die single, and thine image dies with thee.

      Сонет 4. Оригинальный текст

      Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend

      Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy?

      Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,

      And being frank she lends to those are free:

      Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse

      The bounteous largess given thee to give?

      Profitless usurer, why dost thou use

      So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?

      For having traffic with thyself alone,

      Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive:

      Then how, when Nature calls thee to be gone,

      What acceptable audit canst thou leave?

      Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,

      Which used lives th’executor to be.

      Сонет 5. Оригинальный текст

      Those hours that with gentle work did frame

      The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell

      Will play the tyrants to the very same,

      And that unfair which fairly doth excel;

      For never-resting time leads summer on

      To hideous winter and confounds him there,

      Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,

      Beauty o’ersnowed and bareness every where:

      Then were not summer’s distillation left

      A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,

      Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft,

      Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.

      But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,

      Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet

      Сонет 6. Оригинальный текст

      Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface

      In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled:

      Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place

      With beauty’s treasure ere it be self-killed:

      That use is not forbidden usury

      Which happies those that pay the willing loan;

      That’s for thyself to breed another thee,

      Or ten times happier be it ten for one;

      Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,

      If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:

      Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,

      Leaving thee living in posterity?

      Be not self-willed, for thou art much too fair

      To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir