by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Translation by François-Victor Hugo (1828 - 1873)

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)

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]

Text added to the website: 2004-08-09 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:09
Line count: 14
Word count: 121

Tu peux voir en moi ce temps de l'année
Language: French (Français)  after the English 
Tu peux voir en moi ce temps de l'année 
où il ne pend plus que quelques rares feuilles jaunes 
aux branches qui tremblent sous le souffle de l'hiver, 
orchestres nus et ruinés où chantaient naguère les doux oiseaux.
En moi tu vois le crépuscule du jour, 
qui s'évanouit dans l'occident avec le soleil couchant 
et va tout à l'heure être emporté par la nuit noire, 
cet alter ego de la mort qui scelle tout dans le repos.
En moi tu vois la lueur d'un feu 
qui agonise sur les cendres de sa jeunesse, 
lit de mort où il doit expirer, 
éteint par l'aliment dont il se nourrissait.
  Tu t'en aperçois, et c'est ce qui fait ton amour plus fort 
  pour aimer celui que tu vas si tôt perdre.

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Based on

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

    [ None yet in the database ]


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website: 2010-08-17 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:03:57
Line count: 14
Word count: 128