The LiederNet Archive
WARNING. Not all the material on this website is in the public domain.
It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission.
For more information, contact us at the following address:
licenses (AT) lieder (DOT) net

All the infections that the sun sucks up

Language: English

Caliban
 All the infections that the sun sucks up
 from bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper' fall,
 and make him by inchmeal a disease.
 His spirits hear me, and yet I needs must curse,
 but they'll nor pinch!
 Fright me with urchin shows,
 pitch me in the mire,
 nor lead me, like a firebrand in the dark
 out of my way unless he bid 'em.
 But for every trifle are they set upon me;
 sometimes like apes!
 Then like hedgehogs!
 Sometime am I all wound with adders
 who do hiss me into madness.
 All the infections that the sun sucks up
 from bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper' fall,
 and...
 Lo, now lo!
 Here comes a spirit of his.
 I'll fall flat!
 Perchance he'll not mind me.


Translation(s): FRE

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, and transliterations (if applicable):


Text added to the website: 2007-05-11.
Last modified: 2016-02-13 16:54:04
Line count: 22
Word count: 125

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

Que tous les miasmes que le soleil...

Language: French (Français) after the English

Caliban
Que tous les miasmes que le soleil aspire
des fondrières, des marais, des bas-fonds, tombent sur Prospero
et fassent de lui une plaie épaisse d’un pouce !
Ses esprits m’écoutent, et pourtant il faut que je le maudisse.
Eux ne voudraient pas me pincer,
m’effrayer de leurs mines de hérissons,
me plonger dans la mare,
ni m’égarer par des feux follets dans les ténèbres,
sans que Prospero le leur ordonnât ;
mais, pour la moindre vétille, il les lance sur moi,
tantôt sous forme de singes
tantôt sous forme de porcs-épics
D’autres fois, je suis tout étreint par des serpents
qui me sifflent à me rendre fou.
Que tous les miasmes que le soleil aspire
des fondrières, des marais, des bas-fonds, tombent sur Prospero
et...
Tenez ! justement ! Là !
Voici un de ses esprits !
Jetons-nous à plat ventre ;
peut-être ne me remarquera-t-il pas.


About the headline (FAQ)

Submitted by Guy Laffaille [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: 2016-02-13.
Last modified: 2016-02-13 16:52:46
Line count: 22
Word count: 148