Sonnet 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red.
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go:
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
TESTO ORIGINALE:
My Mistres eyes are nothing like the Sunne,
Currall is farre more red,then her lips red,
If snow be white,why then her brests are dun:
If haires be wiers,black wiers grow on her head:
I haue seene roses damaskt,red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheekes,
And in some perfumes is there more delight,
Then in the breath that from my Mistres reekes.
I loue to heare her speake,yet well I know,
That Musicke hath a farre more pleasing sound:
I graunt I neuer saw a goddesse goe,
My Mistres when shee walkes treads on the ground.
And yet by heauen I thinke my loue as rare,
As any she beli'd with false compare.
Sonetto 130 / traduzione hanna filo
Nulla del sole hanno gli occhi della mia bella,
Delle sue labbra il più rosso è corallo,
Se la neve è bianca, i suoi seni son grigi,
Se i capelli sono crini, neri crini crescono sul suo capo.
Ho visto rose screziate, bianche e rosse,
Quelle rose così mai vedo sulle sue gote;
E in certi profumi c'è assai più delizia,
Rispetto al fiato, ch'esala la mia amante.
Adoro sentire la sua voce, ma so bene
Che la musica ha un molto più piacevole suono.
Ammetto, non ho mai visto camminare una dea,
Ma i passi della mia bella, calpestano suolo.
Ma in nome del cielo, cosi raro stimo mio amore,
Come qualsiasi falsamente decantata donna.
Tag:shakespeare
Friday, April 11, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment