by John Milton (1608 - 1674)
Translation © by Geart van der Meer

Satan's monologue: Me miserable
Language: English 
Available translation(s): FRI
Me miserable! which way shall I flie
Infinite wrauth, and infinite despaire?
Which way I flie is Hell; my self am Hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep
Still threatning to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heav'n.
O then at last relent: is there no place
Left for Repentance, none for Pardon left? 
None left but by submission; and that word
Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame
Among the Spirits beneath, whom I seduc'd
With other promises and other vaunts
Then to submit, boasting I could subdue
Th' Omnipotent. Ay me, they little know
How dearly I abide that boast so vaine,
Under what torments inwardly I groane:
While they adore me on the Throne of Hell,
With Diadem and Sceptre high advanc'd 
The lower still I fall, onely Supream
In miserie; such joy Ambition findes.
But say I could repent and could obtaine
By Act of Grace my former state; how soon
Would higth recall high thoughts, how soon unsay 
What feign'd submission swore: ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
For never can true reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly hate have peirc'd so deep:
Which would but lead me to a worse relapse 
And heavier fall: so should I purchase deare
Short intermission bought with double smart.
This knows my punisher; therefore as farr
From granting hee, as I from begging peace:
All hope excluded thus, behold in stead 
Of us out-cast, exil'd, his new delight,
Mankind created, and for him this World.
So farewel Hope, and with Hope farewel Fear,
Farewel Remorse: all Good to me is lost;
Evil be thou my Good; by thee at least 
Divided Empire with Heav'ns King I hold
By thee, and more then half perhaps will reigne;
As Man ere long, and this new World shall know.

Authorship:

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, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • FRI Frisian (Geart van der Meer) , title unknown, copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2009-01-12
Line count: 41
Word count: 312

Illindige! Wêrhinne no te flechtsjen?
Language: Frisian  after the English 
Illindige! Wêrhinne no te flechtsjen?
Nei grime sûnder ein, foar ivich wanhoop?
Wêr't ik ek flechtsje is hel, de hel bin ik,
En hieltyd wer is der in djipper ôfgrûn
Dy't mij wiid gapjend driget te ferswolgjen,
Wêrbij't myn hel noch op in himel liket.
O! jou dan ta! Is der gjin plak mear foar
Berou, gjin plak mear foar ferjeffenis?
Dan moatst dij ûnderwerpe, en dat wurd
Ferbiedt minachting mij, en eangst foar skamte
Tsjinoer de geasten dy't ik yn myn grutspraak,
Mei oare tasizzings as ûnderwerping,
Ferlieden ha mei myn geswets dat ik
De Almachtige ferslaan koe. Gjin besef
Ha sij hoe djoer mij dat te stean komd is,
Wat kwelling mij myn ynderlik teropt:
Wylst sij mij op de Helletroan oanbidde
Mei diadeem en grutsk opstutsen skepter,
Fal ik omleech, omleech, en bin de heechste
Inkeld yn smert: sa'n freugde jout de earsucht...
Mar stel, genede joech mij troch berou
Werom myn earder steat, hoe gau soe hegens
Noch heger wolle?; ôfsward wurde wer
Sabeare ûnderwerping?: wat bij pine
Beloofd wurdt, is net mear as lucht as 't oer is.
Dêr't haat sa deadlik djip syn wûnen slein hat,
Kin nea de suvere fersoening groeie.
En dan foel ik werom yn slimmer kwea
En swierder fal: sa soe 'k dan djoer betelje
In koart bekoar, mei dûbele pine kocht.
Dat wit ek hij dy't straft; en dus sil hij
Nea frede gunne, ik der nea om smeekje.
Besjoch dêrom, no't alle hoop foar ús,
Ferstjittenen, ferfleach, syn nije freugde:
It troch Him skepen minskdom en syn wrâld.
Dus, hoop farwol, en méi hoop ek de frees,
Farwol berou: ferlern is 't goede yn mij;
Do, kwea, wês no myn goed; troch dij bin ik
No like machtich as de himelkening,
En sil myn ryk licht sines noch oertreffe,
Sa't minsk en nije wrâld gau witte sille.'

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  • Translation from English to Frisian copyright © 2013 by Geart van der Meer, (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.
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This text was added to the website: 2013-04-23
Line count: 41
Word count: 309