You can help us modernize! The present website has been online for a very long time and we want to bring it up to date. As of May 6, we are $2,380 away from our goal of $15,000 to fund the project. The fully redesigned site will be better for mobile, easier to read and navigate, and ready for the next decade. Please give today to join dozens of other supporters in making this important overhaul possible!

The LiederNet Archive

Much of our material is not in the public domain.
It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission.
Printing texts or translations without the name of the author or translator is also illegal.
You must use the copyright symbol © when you reprint copyright-protected material.

For more information, contact us at the following address:
licenses (AT) lieder (DOT) net
Please read the instructions below the translations before writing!
In your e-mail, always include the names of the translators if you wish to reprint something.

You are three men of sin, whom Destiny

Language: English

You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
That hath to instrument this lower world
And what is in't, -- the never-surfeited sea
Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad:
And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves. You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of fate: the elements
Of whom your swords are temper'd may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One dowle that's in my plume; my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths,
And will not be uplifted. But, remember --
For that's my business to you, -- that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Expos'd unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him, and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce, by me
Lingering perdition, -- worse than any death
Can be at once, -- shall step by step attend
You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from--
Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads, -- is nothing but heart-sorrow,
And a clear life ensuing.


Translation(s): FRE ITA

List of language codes

About the headline (FAQ)

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Authorship


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):


Text added to the website: 2008-12-10 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:03:01

Line count: 30
Word count: 237

Gentle Reminder
This website began in 1995 as a personal project, and I have been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your gift is greatly appreciated.
     - Emily Ezust

Una ribalda

Language: Italian (Italiano) after the English

Una ribalda
Triade voi siete, e quel destin che regge
Questa umil terra e quanto in sè raguna
Fece voi ributtar su questa piaggia,
Deserta dalla ingorda onda del mare,
Che mai sazio non è, come non degni
Dell’umano consorzio. ― Io v’ho confusi!
(vedendo Alonso, Sebastiano e gli altri metter mano alle spade)
Una temerità pari alla vostra
Mena l’uomo al capestro o in mar lo affoga.
Noi del Destino (i miei compagni ed io)
Ministri siamo. O stolti! il brando vostro,
Di terrene sustanze, un’orma forse
Stampar nella sonante aria potria?
Ferir forse la voce? Impiagar l’onda
Che per propria virtù, divisa a pena, 
Si ricongiunge? Or ben, così potreste
Spiccar dall’ali mie solo una piuma.
E manco invulnerabili non sono
Gli Spirti a me compagni. E dato ancora
Che giugneste a ferirci, enorme peso
Vi sarieno le spade, e vi morrebbe
Nell’alzarle il vigor. ― Vi risovvenga
(Questo è il messaggio mio) che da Milano
Voi tre, con arti scellerate, il buono
Prospero allontanaste, ed in balìa
Lo metteste del mar colla innocente
Sua pargoletta; e il mar con pena eguale
Di quel misfatto vi punì. Le arcane
Posse del ciel che indugiano talvolta,
Ma non obbliano la vendetta, han mari
Contro voi sollevato, han rive, han tutto
L’animato universo. Il figlio, Alonso,
Già te l’hanno rapito, ed annunciando
Ti van or col mio labbro una ruina
Lenta, incessante, e peggior d’ogni morte,
Che te di passo in passo e quanto è tuo
Distruggerà. Voi tre dall’ira eterna,
A scoppiar già vicina in questo ignoto
Lido sui capi vostri, altro non salva
Che pentimento del misfatto e pura
Vita nell’avvenir.


About the headline (FAQ)

Submitted by Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]

Authorship


Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

    [ None yet in the database ]


Text added to the website: 2019-05-09 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2019-05-09 02:29:20

Line count: 42
Word count: 273