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No more be griev'd at that which thou hast done: Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud: Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud. All men make faults, and even I in this, Authorizing thy trespass with compare, Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss, Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are; For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense, -- Thy adverse party is thy advocate, -- And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence: Such civil war is in my love and hate, That I an accessary needs must be, To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
About the headline (FAQ)
- by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 35 [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 Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895 - 1968), "Sonnet XXXV - No more be grieved", op. 125 (Shakespeare Sonnets), Heft 4 no. 1 (1963). [voice and piano] [ sung text not yet checked against a primary source]
- by Stefan Lienenkämper , "Sonett 35", published 2006 [mezzo-soprano and piano], from Vier Lieder nach Sonetten von W. Shakespeare, no. 1, Helmstadt : HH Musikverlag [ sung text not yet checked against a primary source]
- by Richard Simpson (1820 - 1876), "Sonnet XXXV", 1865. [high voice and piano] [ sung text not yet checked against a primary source]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (François-Victor Hugo) , no title, appears in Sonnets de Shakespeare, no. 35, first published 1857
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Per quanto hai tu commesso più non ti dar cura", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2010-08-11
Line count: 14
Word count: 106
Per quanto hai tu commesso più non ti dar cura, hanno spine le rose, e fango le fonti argentate: un'eclissi o una nuvola sole e luna oscura, e nel più bel germoglio stanno laide bestie annidate. Sbagliano tutti, e cado io pure in errore, se le tue colpe giustifico facendo paragoni, corrompendo me stesso, per salvarti l'onore, scusando i tuoi peccati in modi inopportuni; E poiché ai tuoi sensuali errori cerco di dare un senso, diventa tuo avvocato la tua parte avversaria, E contro ogni mio interesse scuse legali invento mentre guerra civile in me, fra odio e amore, infuria. Perché ormai è destino che diventi sodale, di quel dolce furfante che mi deruba crudele.
- Translation from English to Italian (Italiano) copyright © 2012 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.
- a text in English by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 35
This text was added to the website: 2012-07-03
Line count: 14
Word count: 115