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

Was it the proud full sail of his great...
Language: English 
Our translations:  ITA
Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
Bound for the prize of (all too precious) you,
That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write,
Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
He, nor that affable familiar ghost
Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,
As victors of my silence cannot boast,
I was not sick of any fear from thence.
      But when your countenance fill'd up his line,
      Then lacked I matter, that enfeebled mine.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 86 [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 LXXXVI", 1866 [ soprano, SSTB chorus, 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. 86, first published 1857
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , copyright © 2025, (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: 110

Fu la vela orgogliosa gonfia del suo...
Language: Italian (Italiano)  after the English 
Fu la vela orgogliosa gonfia del suo  poetare eloquente,
issata per lodare te (ed ogni tua cosa preziosa),
a farmi marcire i pensieri già maturi in mente,
rendendo  tomba il grembo in cui avevano casa?
Fu l’ispirazione dei versi,  da spiriti guidata,
sopra ogni stile mortale, che a morte mi ha ferito?
No, né lui, né le notturne presenze
che a lui furono di aiuto, hanno i miei versi stordito.
Né lui, né quell'affabile fantasma familiare
che a notte con abilità lo raggira,
di avermi spinto al silenzio si possono vantare,
perché di loro non ho mai avuto paura.
Ma quando il tuo viso affidasti alla sua poesia,
mancandomi l’oggetto, si indebolì la mia.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from English to Italian (Italiano) copyright © 2025 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. 86
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website: 2025-07-16
Line count: 14
Word count: 114

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–Emily Ezust, Founder

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