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

In the old age black was not counted...
Language: English 
Our translations:  ITA
In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
But now is black beauty's successive heir,
And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame:
For since each hand hath put on Nature's power,
Fairing the foul with Art's false borrowed face,
Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
But is profan'd, if not lives in disgrace.
Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black,
Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
Sland'ring creation with a false esteem:
    Yet so they mourn becoming of their woe,
    That every tongue says beauty should look so.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 127 [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 CXXVII", 1866 [ medium 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. 126, 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: 111

Nei tempi antichi non si stimava bello...
Language: Italian (Italiano)  after the English 
Nei tempi antichi non si stimava bello il nero,
o, se lo era, bello non era chiamato;
ma oggi il nero è stimato, di bellezza, l’erede vero
mentre la bellezza col marchio di bastarda è calunniata.
Perché da quando ogni mano ha rubato il potere alla Natura
facendo di ogni bruttezza una falsa bellezza,
la vera bellezza non ha più un nome né una sacra dimora,
ed è profanata  o caduta in disgrazia.
Perciò gli occhi della mia donna sembrano due corvi neri,
fatti per il lutto o per consolare il lamento
di quelle che, non nate belle, vogliono farsi tali
e la creazione calunniano  con un falso ornamento.
Eppure il loro lamento è convincente al punto
che ogni lingua chiama bello ciò che rimane brutto.

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. 127
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website: 2025-07-16
Line count: 14
Word count: 126

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