William Shakespeare - Sonete traduse

Sonnet XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed,

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed: 

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Sonetul XVIII

Cu-o zi a verii poate sa te semui?

Tu esti mai plin de farmec si mai bland!

Un vant doboara creanga si blestemu-i

ca frunza verii moare prea curand.

Ades e ochiul cerului fierbinte

si aur il precede-ntunecat

precum frumosul din frumos descinde

sub cerul simplei firi, netulburat.

Dar vara ta eterna nu paleste

si n-ai sa pierzi ce astazi stapanesti

in umbra mortii n-ai sa plimbi caleste

cand intr-un vers etern ti-e dat sa cresti.

Cat oamenii privesc si cat respira

traiesti si in cantu-nchis in lira.

Sonnet LX

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,

So do our minutes hasten to their end,

Each changing place with that which goes before,

In sequent toil all forwards do contend.

Nativity once in the main of light,

Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,

Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,

And Time that gave, doth now his gift confound.

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,

And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,

Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,

And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.

And yet to times in hope, my verse shall stand

Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

Sonetul LX

Cum valurile cresc peste prundisuri

minute curg spre moartea-n zbor nebun,

locul si-l lasa fara ocolisuri

celor din urma, care le rapun.

Te nasti intr-a oceanului splendoare,

prin varste curgi dar Timpul ti-a sortit

eclipse, lupte lase si surpare

devalmasind tot ce ti-a daruit.

Tot ce-i vigoare Timpul incovoaie,

fruntea ti-o taie cu incretituri

cu-averi se-ndoapa, viata o despoaie

iar coasa lunga n-ai cum sa i-o furi.

Doar versul meu prin vremi se mai aude,

slavindu-te in ciuda mainii crude

Sonnet CXXX

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.

Sonetul CXXX

Nu-s sori, ochii iubitei, nu scanteie

rosia-i gura ca margeanu-n mari

de-i alba neaua, sanul ei de ce e

posomorat si-i noapte al ei par?

Stiu, din Damasc, albe si rosii roze

cu care chipul nu-i e logodit.

Miresme stiu, starnind apoteoze

straine de al doamnei duh smerit.

Imi place s-o ascult desi-i mai scumpa

auzului, o muzica,-i stiut,

nu le-am vazut zeitele cum umbla

dar ea, mergand, paseste doar, pe lut.

Si totusi, jur pe cer, faptura-i rara

cu nimeni si nimic nu se compara

Sonnet CLII

In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,

But thou art twice forsworn to me love swearing,

In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn,

In vowing new hate after new love bearing:

But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee, 

When I break twenty? I am perjured most,

For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee:

And all my honest faith in thee is lost.

For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness:

Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,

And to enlighten thee gave eyes to blindness,

Or made them swear against the thing they see.

For I have sworn thee fair: more perjured I,

To swear against the truth so foul a be.

Sonetul CLII

Iubindu-te eu mint; de-ti vine randul

de doua ori sa minti si amandoua

minciunile iti spurca legamantul

din asternut. Iubesti cu ura noua.

Dar ce sunt doua juraminte rupte

cand eu calc douazeci? Eu sunt sperjurul

care din tine-ncearca sa se-nfrupte,

sunt umbra care-ti siluie conturul.

Si e pierdut gandul credintii-n tine

caci eu, jurand pe dulcea-ti bunatate,

pleoapa nu mi-am lasat sa se-nlumine

la focul tau cel cast si-asa sunt poate

Pe veci, cel care minte, duh bolnav

jurand numai pe tot ce e scarnav!