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Boka inneholder både originalteksten på engelsk og gjendiktninger til norsk av Shakespeares 154 sonetter.
Omtale fra forlaget
For første gang på moderne norsk riksmål foreligger en komplett gjendiktning av Shakespeares lyriske hovedverk, de 154 sonettene som utkom i 1609. Sonettene er gjendiktet av lyrikeren Erik Bystad, som foruten å ha utgitt en rekke diktsamlinger også har gjendiktet Shakespeares skuespill Othello, Titus Andronicus, Julius Caesar og Når enden er god, er allting godt. Vanskene ved å omsette disse tekstene til norsk er formidable, ettersom Shakespeares komplekse bildebruk, hans mangetydighet, det engelske språkets ordrikdom og sonettens rimmønster skal ivaretas best mulig. Leserne kan selv studere dette ved at originaltekstene er gjengitt vis-à-vis de norske gjendiktningene.
Forlag Aschehoug
Utgivelsesår 2004
Format Innbundet
ISBN13 9788203188312
EAN 9788203188312
Genre Klassisk litteratur
Språk Bokmål Flerspråklig Engelsk
Sider 354
Utgave 1
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So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken
fra sonette 116.
O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight!
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love's eye is not so true as all men's 'No.'
How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true,
That is so vex'd with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.
sonette 148.
O absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive
fra sonette 39.
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
fra sonette 29.
To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure and no pace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion and mine eye may be deceived:
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred;*
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead*
sonette 104.
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time.
fra sonette 55.
Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate'
To me that languish'd for her sake;
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom,
And taught it thus anew to greet:
'I hate' she alter'd with an end,
That follow'd it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away;
'I hate' from hate away she threw,
And saved my life, saying 'not you.'
sonette 145.
And, for they looked but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing.
So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground;
And for the peace of you I hold such strife
As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found;
Now proud as an enjoyer and anon
Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure,
Now counting best to be with you alone,
Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure;
Sometime all full with feasting on your sight
And by and by clean starved for a look;
Possessing or pursuing no delight,
Save what is had or must from you be took.
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
Or gluttoning on all, or all away.
sonette 75.
Newsweek har laget en metaliste av bl.a. Modern Library, the New York Public Library, St. John's College reading list, Oprahs liste. En spennende liste som kanskje kan være rettesnor for hva man skal komme seg gjennom av klassikere. Listen finnes her: http://www.newsweek.com/id/204478.
Jeg skulle bare se hva som var igjen av tilbud etter det store salget, ikke kjøpe . Men endte opp med disse .