by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Translation Singable translation © by Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov (1948 - 2020)

That time of year thou mayst in me...
Language: English 
Available translation(s): FRI ITA RUS
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
  This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
  To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

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

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

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (L. A. J. Burgersdijk)
  • FRE French (Français) (François-Victor Hugo) , no title, appears in Sonnets de Shakespeare, no. 73, first published 1857
  • FRI Frisian [singable] (Geart van der Meer) , copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Sonnetto LXXIII", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • RUS Russian (Русский) [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov) , "Сонет 73", written 1981, Sonnet 073, copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2004-08-09
Line count: 14
Word count: 121

Сонет 73
Language: Russian (Русский)  after the English 
Во мне узрел ты тот печальный срок,
Когда в ветвях желтеет лишь один
От холода трепещущий листок,
И птичий хор не слышен средь руин. 
Во мне узрел ты сумрак вечеров,
Когда за солнцем в отблеске луны
Ночь расстилает мертвенный покров
И наступает царство тишины.
Во мне узрел ты тот унылый свет,
Когда сгорает юности зола,
И пепел запорашивает след –
Костёр угас, жизнь сожжена дотла.
    Но, озирая мой остаток дней,
    Твоя любовь горит ещё сильней.

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Based on:

Researcher for this text: Dmitri Smirnov

This text was added to the website: 2008-01-20
Line count: 14
Word count: 75