O, that you were yourself! but, love,...
Language: English
O, that you were yourself! but, love, you are
No longer yours than you yourself here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give.
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination: then you were
Yourself again after yourself's decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold
Against the stormy gusts of winter's day
And barren rage of death's eternal cold?
O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know
You had a father: let your son say so.
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Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:
Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (François Pierre Guillaume Guizot) , no title, appears in Œuvres Complètes de Shakspeare Volume VIII, in Sonnets, no. 13, first published 1863
- FRE French (Français) (François-Victor Hugo) , no title, appears in Sonnets de Shakespeare, no. 13, first published 1857
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Sonetto XIII", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2003-11-13
Line count: 14
Word count: 108
Sonetto XIII
Language: Italian (Italiano) after the English
Oh, se sempre tu ti appartenessi! Ma, mio caro bene,
tu sarai tuo solo finché non sarai morto:
dovresti prepararti a questa fine che viene
e trasferire in un altro questo tuo dolce volto.
Così questa bellezza che ti è stata prestata
non troverebbe termine: perché ritroveresti
te stesso ancora, dopo che cesserà tua vita,
nella tua dolce prole e nei suoi gesti.
Chi un così bello edificio lascerebbe crollare,
mentre una cura oculata potrebbe renderlo forte
perché possa resistere al tempestoso infuriare,
delle bufere invernali, e al gelo della morte?
Oh, soltanto uno sprecone! Amore, se ben puoi dire adesso
che hai avuto un padre: dica un tuo figlio lo stesso.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to Italian (Italiano) copyright © 2011 by Ferdinando Albeggiani, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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This text was added to the website: 2011-11-11
Line count: 14
Word count: 112
