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by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Translation © by Ferdinando Albeggiani

How careful was I when I took my way
Language: English 
Our translations:  ITA
How careful was I when I took my way,
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
That to my use it might unused stay
From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,
Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not lock'd up in any chest,
Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
Within the gentle closure of my breast,
From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
      And even thence thou wilt be stol'n I fear,
      For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 48 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

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

  • by Richard Simpson (1820 - 1876), "Sonnet XLVIII", 1865 [ low voice and piano ] [sung text not yet checked]

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

  • FRE French (Français) (François-Victor Hugo) , no title, appears in Sonnets de Shakespeare, no. 48, first published 1857
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2010-08-12
Line count: 14
Word count: 117

Con quanta cura, sul punto di partire
Language: Italian (Italiano)  after the English 
Con quanta cura, sul punto di partire,
ogni minima cosa ho messo al sicuro,
così che nuovamente intatta la potessi godere
ben custodita da tocco menzognero!
Ma tu, al cui confronto è nulla ogni mia cosa preziosa,
mio maggiore conforto, e ora più grande dolore,
tu mio unico pensiero, mia più cara cosa,
rimani preda di ogni ladro volgare.
Io non ti posso rinchiudere in qualche cofanetto,
ma solo là dove non sei, anche se là ti sento,
nella gentile prigione del mio petto,
dalla quale puoi uscire ed entrare a tuo piacimento.  
     Ma temo che, anche da lì, di te mi sia fatta rapina
     ché, per sì caro premio, virtù si fa malandrina.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from English to Italian (Italiano) copyright © 2013 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.
    Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in English by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 48
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website: 2013-09-17
Line count: 14
Word count: 114

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This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has 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 help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

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