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 crown'd, 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.
Two Sonnets
by Stanley Grill (b. 1953)
1. Like as the waves  [sung text checked 1 time]
Authorship:
- by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 60 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (François-Victor Hugo) , no title, appears in Sonnets de Shakespeare, no. 60, first published 1857
- GER German (Deutsch) (Richard Flatter) , appears in Die Fähre, Englische Lyrik aus fünf Jahrhunderten, first published 1936
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- POL Polish (Polski) (Jan Kasprowicz) , "Sonet 60", appears in Z sonetów, no. 1, Warsaw, first published 1907
2. No! Time thou shalt not bost . .  [sung text checked 1 time]
No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change: Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; They are but dressings of a former sight. Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire What thou dost foist upon us that is old, And rather make them born to our desire Than think that we before have heard them told. Thy registers and thee I both defy, Not wondering at the present nor the past, For thy records and what we see doth lie, Made more or less by thy continual haste. This I do vow and this shall ever be; I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee.
Authorship:
- by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 123 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CZE Czech (Čeština) (Jaroslav Vrchlický)
- FRE French (Français) (François-Victor Hugo) , no title, appears in Sonnets de Shakespeare, no. 123, first published 1857
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "No, Tempo, del mio mutare non potrai farti vanto", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Total word count: 224