12 07 Ljubav je grijeh.indd

60. dubrovačke ljetne igre
60th Dubrovnik Summer Festival
2009
Hrvatska Croatia
C. I. C.T. / Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord, Paris
LJUBAV JE MOJ GRIJEH
Soneti Williama Shakespearea
LOVE IS MY SIN
Sonnets by William Shakespeare
Kazališna adaptacija / Adapted by
Peter Brook
Tvrđava Lovrjenac
Lovrjenac Fort
12., 13. srpnja 12, 13 July
21.30 09:30 pm
LJUBAV JE MOJ GRIJEH / LOVE IS MY SIN
Soneti Williama Shakespearea / Sonnets by William Shakespeare
Kazališna adaptacija / adapted by Peter Brook
Glazba / Music by Louis Couperin (1626 - 1661)
Izvođač / Performed by Franck Krawczyk
Izvođači sonata / Sonnets performed by Natasha Parry & Bruce Myers
Majstor svjetla / Light Designer Philippe Vialatte
U suradnji s / In collaboration with Marie Hélène Estienne
Fotografije / Photos Pascal Victor ArtComArt
Produkcija / Produced by the International Centre of Theatre
Creations (C.I.C.T.) / Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord, Paris
Premijera u pariškome Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord, 8. travnja 2009.
Premiered at Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord, Paris, on 8 April 2009.
Trajanje predstave 50 min.
Running time 50 min.
O Shakespeareovim sonetima
Kada biste željeli, na primjer, izgovoriti riječ
“krava” u određenim krajevima svijeta, na
raspolaganju možete imati čak pedeset
riječi. Ali za pojmove “ljubav”, “mržnja” ili
“grijeh” jedna kratka riječ morat će opisati
ono što mnogobrojni rječnici jedva da mogu
definirati; a ipak, niti jedno od njihovih
objašnjenja ne može dočarati fizičko
iskustvo koje ovoj riječi daje pravo značenje.
Upravo zbog ovog postoje glumci.
Zhavaljujući svojoj nazočnosti i nazočnosti
publike, glumac može udahnuti život
riječima tako da izgleda kao da izviru ravno
iz autorova srca.
U ovoj čudesnoj zbirci Shakespeare nam
dopušta uvid u svoj najskriveniji život. Ovaj
povjerljiv dnevnik otkriva njegove intimne
teme, ljubomoru, strast, krivnju i trenutke
očaja. Tu, što je najznačajnije, on propituje
duboko značenje privlačnosti prema
muškarcu ili ženi, ili pak privlačnosti prema
samome činu pisanja.
Nije bilo lako napraviti izbor između 154
soneta. Morao sam pronaći dramski
kontinuitet, a bio sam vođen prikrivenim
tenzijama koje nastaju u odnosu između
dvoje ljudi.
Na početku Shakespeare se prisjeća
zajedničkih trenutaka spokoja, ali se malo po
malo počinju javljati ljubavne boli: najprije
odvojenost, a potom nevjera i izdaja, koje
vode k osjećaju gnušanja nad fizičkim tijelom.
Ipak, u završnoj riječi, Shakespeare potvrđuje
postojanje ljubavi koja je u stanju prevazići
sve prepreke i jača je čak od starosti i smrti.
Jer ljubav može pobijediti vrijeme.
Svoje dugogodišnje iskustvo interpretiranja
Shakespearea i vlastito životno iskustvo
Natasha Parry i Bruce Myers stavljaju u
službu ovih jedinstvenih ispovijedi.
U jednom malo poznatom katalogu piše da
je Shakespeare razmišljao o izdavanju
jednog broja sonata već 1600. godine.
Međutim, do tiskanja nije došlo, a
Skakespeare je sonete čuvao u rukopisu. U
vrijeme velike kuge od 1606. do 1610. sva su
londonska kazališta bila zatvorena i
vjerojatno su financijski razlozi prisilili
Shakespearea na izdavanje soneta. No, u to
ne možemo biti sigurni.
Ono što pak možemo zaključiti je da
sintaksa, izbor riječi te aluzije na ondašnja
događanja ukazuju na to da su zadjni soneti
nastali oko 1404. godine, u vrijeme kada je
Shakespeare napisao Mjeru za mjeru, Kralja
Learea i Otela.
Peter Brook
Peter BROOK
Peter Brook (1925.) rođen je u Londonu,
gdje režira svoju prvu dramu 1943. godine.
Nakon toga režira 70 produkcija u Londonu,
Parizu i New Yorku. Među predstavama koje
je uprizorio za Royal Shakespeare Company
su Uzaludni ljubavni trud (1946.), Mjera za
mjeru (1950.), Titus Andronicus (1955.), Kralj
Lear (1962.), Marat/Sade (1964.), US (1966.),
San Ivanjske noći (1970.) te Antonije i
Kleopatra (1978.).
Godine 1971. u Parizu osniva Međunarodni
centar za kazališna istraživanja, a 1974. otvara
njegovu stalnu bazu u kazalištu Bouffes du
Nord, gdje režira predstave Timon Atenjanin,
The Ik, Ubu aux Bouffes, The Conference of
the Birds, L’Os, Višnjik, Mahabharata, Woza
Albert!, Oluja, The Man Who, Qui est là?, O!
les Beaux Jours, Je suis un Phénomène, Le
Costume, Hamlet, Far Away, La Mort de
Krishna, Ta Main dans la Mienne, Le Grand
Inquisiteur, Tierno Bokar, and Sizwe Banzi is
Dead – od kojih se mnoge izvode i na
francuskom i na engleskom jeziku.
Uprizorio je opere La Bohème, Boris
Godounov, Olimpijci, Salomé i Figarov pir u
Covent Gardenu; Faust i Evgenij Onjegin u
Metropolitan Opera House, New York; La
Tragédie de Carmen i Pelejeve impresije u
kazalištu Bouffes du Nord, Pariz; te Don
Giovanni za festival Aix en Provence.
Brookova autobiografija Niti vremena
objavljena je 1998. godine, pridružujući se
drugim djelima kao što su Prazan prostor
(1968.) – preveden na više od 15 jezika,
Točka pomaka (1987.), Zazivanje (i
zaboravljanje) Shakespearea (2002.) te
Nema tajni (1993.).
Među filmovima koje je Brook režirao su
Gospodar muha, Marat/Sade, Kralj Lear,
Moderato Cantabile, Mahabharata i Susreti
s izuzetnim ljudima.
Bruce MYERS
Bruce Myers rođen je u Engleskoj. Studira
na Kraljevskoj akademiji dramske
umjetnosti, a potom radi za kazalište
Everyman u Liverpoolu. Godine 1968.
postaje članom kazališta Royal
Shakespeare Company, koje napušta 1970.
godine da bi se pridružio Međunarodnome
centru za kazališna istraživanja u Parizu
kojeg je osnovao Peter Brook. Sudjeluje u
svim kazališnim avanturama ovoga centra.
Uslijedila su brojna nezaboravna gostovanja:
u Iranu s predstavom Orghast na Shiraz
festivalu; nastupi diljem Afrike od Alžira do
Lagosa; dugotrajan boravak u Californiji i
suradnja s Teatrom Campesino Luisa
Valdeza, nakon čega drži radionice u New
Yorku na Glazbenoj akademiji Brooklin.
Tako postaje članom Međunarodnoga centra
za kazališno stvaralaštvo (CICT), kojeg je
osnovao Peter Brook 1974. godine.
Sudjeluje u gotovo svim produkcija kazališta
Bouffes du Nord: Timon Atenjanin, The Ik,
Ubu aux Bouffes, Mjera za mjeru, The
Conference of the Birds, Mahabharata,
Oluja, The Man Who, Je suis un
phénomène, Hamlet i Tierno Bokar.
Provodi gotovo tri godine, od 2005. do
2008., na svjetskoj turneji s monodramom
Veliki inkvizitor koju je uprizorio Peter Brook
prema romanu F. M. Dostojevskog Braća
Karamazovi.
Piše i režira predstavu A Dybbuk for Two, te
režira predstavu The Well of the Saints
1992. godine.
Pojavljuje se i na velikom ekranu i tumači
ulogu Krišne u flimskoj verziji Mahabharate.
Također glumi u filmovima Présumé
dangereux (1990.) Georgesa Lautnera,
Disparus (1998.) Gillesa Bourdosa i snima tri
filma s Michelom Devilleom: Eaux profondes
(1981.), Toutes peines confondues (1992.) te
Un monde presque paisible (1997.).
S Philipom Kaufmanom snima dva filma:
Neizdrživa lakoća postojanja (1987.) i Henry
& June (1990.).
Posljednjih godina Bruce Myers održava
radionice za studente i mlade glumce, a
najnoviji projekti bili su mu oni u Rimu,
Torinu i Pratu.
Natasha PARRY
Natasha Parry debitirala je na sceni Phoenix
Theatrea u Londonu već s dvanaest godina,
kada ju Michael Redgrave iz Umjetničke
škole za kazalište angažira u predstavi
Wingless Victory Maxwella Andersona.
Otada nastupa u kazalištu, na filmu i
televiziji s glumcima i redateljima kao što su
John Gielgud, Alec Guiness, John Mills,
Orson Wells i Rex Harrison na Broadwayu.
Jedna je od prvih članova Peter Brookova
Međunarodnoga centra za kazališna
istraživanja. Oni nastupaju u
eksperimentalnoj verziji Oluje u londonskome
umjetničkom centru Roundhouse, nakon
čega nastavljaju rad u Parizu. Odlaze na
turneje po Africi, Iranu Australiji i SAD s
predstavama Orghast, Timon Atenjanin, The
Ik i The Conference of the Birds.
Natasha Parry vraća se u Englesku kako bi
glumila u predstavi Tramvaj zvan čežnja, te u
Royal Shakespeare Company kazalištima u
Stratfordu i Londonu u predstavama Hipolit,
Mjera za mjeru i Djeca sunca M. Gorkog u
režiji Terry Hands.
Kasnije nastupa u Brookovim uprizorenjima
predstava Višnjik s Michelom Piccolijem,
Tchin Tchin s Marcellom Mastroiannijem, te
u Beckettovoj predstavi Happy Days na
francuskom jeziku, u kojoj je glumila preko
350 puta, najprije u Parizu a potom na
svjetskoj turneji – uključujući nastupe u
londonskim Riverside Studios. Godine 2001.
glumi u Brookovom uprizorenju Hamleta u
kazalištu Bouffes du Nord, koji je tijekom
svoje svjetske turneje prikazan u kazalištu
Young Vic. U Londonu, zajedno s Michelom
Piccolijem, nastupa u Brookovoj produkciji
Ta Main dans la Mienne.
Natasha Parry surađuje i s drugim
redateljima u Parizu u predstavama kao što
su The Night of the Iguana, Kabale et
Amour, Richard III te nastupa u Maurice
Bejartovoj produkciji Mishiminih Five
Modern Noh Plays.
U Londonu su zapaženi njezini nastupi u
ulozi Klitemnestre u Elektri Debore Warner u
Royal Shakespeare Company, u Declan
Donnellanovu Hamletu, u Mme de Sade u
Almeidi, te u Brian Coxovoj produkciji Mrs
Warren’s Profession u Orange Tree
Theatreu.
Među filmovima u kojima je glumila su René
Clementov Monsieur Ripois sa Gerardom
Philippeom, Midnight Lace kojeg je u
Hollywoody snimila s Doris Day, Romeo and
Juliet Franca Zefirellija, Peter Brookov
Meetings with Remarkable Men, Jacques
Doillonov La Fille Prodique i film Marion
Hansel Le Lit.
Franck KRAWCZYK
Pijanist i skladarelj Franc Krawczyk rođen je
1969. godine. Otac mu je bio harmonikaš.
Profesori glasovira bili su mu Serge
Petitgirard i Claude Helffer, a profesori
kompozicije Philippe Manoury i Gilbert Amy.
Na samome početku karijere otkrili su ga na
Franck Krawczyk je professor komorne
glazbe na Nacionalnom sveučilištu za
glazbu i ples u Lyonu.
Marie-Hélène ESTIENNE
Marie-Hélène Estienne sudjelovala je u
brojnim kazališnim i filmskim projektima u
ulozi autorice i asistentice produkcije. Tijekom
svog novinarskog angažmana za Le Nouvel
Observateur i Les Nouvelles Littéraires
postaje asistenticom Michela Guya te radi
na programu festivala Pariška jesen.
festivalu Pariška jesen. Skladao je velik broj
kompozicija za glasovir, violončelo, gudačke
kvartete i različite ansamble. Godine 2000.
osvojio je nagradu Hervé Dugardin te
nagradu Sacem za svoju skladbu za
orkestar pod nazivom “Ruines”.
Radio je transkripcije djela (Vivaldija,
Chopina, Wagnera i Schönberga) za zbor
Accentus/Laurence Equilbey te
MittelEuropa za violončelisticu Soniu
Atherton (CD I DVD Chants d’Est).
U razdoblju od 2001. do 2008., zajedno s
Christianom Boltanskim i Jeanom Kalman
kreairao je oko dvanaest predstava u
Francuskoj, Italiji i Poljskoj, spajajući medije
glazbe i instalacije (Bienvenue, O Mensch!,
Happy Hours, Plein Jour / Le Soir / La Nuit /
Le Matin, Tant que nous sommes vivants,
Les Limbes, Freude, Poki my zyjemy... and
Gute Nacht).
U posljednje vrijeme sklada nove glazbene
forme za medije kazališta (Je ris de me voir
si belle, 2005. s J. Brochenom), čitanje (Les
Limbes, Absence, s E. Ostrovskim, video
(Private Joke s F. Salès) i ples (Purgatorio-In
Visione, 2008. s E. Grecom i P.C.
Scholtenom). Godine 2010. imat ćemo
prigodu čuti dva njegova nova djela (Opéra
Comique, Grand Palais / Monumenta).
Godine 1974. radi na castingu Timona
Atenjanina kojeg je uprizorio Peter Brook. U
Međunarodni centar za kazališno
stvaralaštvo dolazi 1997. kako bi radila na
predstavi Ubu aux Bouffes, i od tada je stalna
asistentica produkcije u svim projektima ovog
centra. Brookova je asistentica u La Tragédie
de Carmen i Mahabharata, te umjetnički
suradnik u predstavama Oluja, Pelejeve
impresije i u novije vrijeme Hamlet (2000).
Marie-Hélène Estienne nastavlja ovu
suradnju na predstavama Woza Albert !, The
Man Who i Qui est là ? u kojima se pojavljuje
u ulozi darmaturginje. S Peterom Brookom je
ko-autorica predstave Je suis un phénomène,
prikazane u kazalištu Bouffes du Nord 1998.
godine. Radi produkciju francuske adaptacije
Can Thembaovog djela Le Costume u
Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord 1999. godine,
kao i produkciju Far Away spisateljice Caryl
Churchill 2002. godine.
Surađuje na uprizorenju i s Jean Claude
Carrièreom potpisuje tekstove za Hamleta
(2002.) i La Mort de Krishna.
Među novijim ostvarenjima su njezina
francuska adaptacija djela Ta Main dans la
Mienne spisateljice Carol Rocamora;
kazališna adaptacija Velikog inkvizitora F. M.
Dostojevkog (2003.); djela Tierno Bokar
spisatelja Amadou Hampaté Bâ (2004.), te
francuska adaptacija djela Sizwe Banzi is
Dead autora Athola Fugarda, Johna Kanija i
Winstona Ntshone.
Soneti Williama Shakespearea
Sonnets by William Shakespeare
15
Kad pomislim da svemu što rast znáde
Samo tren traje savršenstvo sjajno,
Da scena ova daje tek komáde
Nad kojim zvijezde upravljaju tajno,
Da ljudi kao stabla rastu gȍre,
Dok isti svod i kòri ih i glȁdī,
Kipe od soka mladog, pa se sȍrē,
Iz sjećanja izblijedī lik im mladi,
Tad misao na prolaznost tu rodi
Raskošni mlâdi lik tvoj ù mom oku,
Dok razgovor sa smrću vrijeme vodi,
Da dan tvoj zȁ noć zamijeni dubòku,
S Vremenom tad se, jer te ljubim, borim,
Čim okrnji te ja te s nȍva stvorim.
Devouring time
15
When I consider every thing that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered and checked even by the selfsame sky,
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory:
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night,
And all in war with Time for love of you,
As he takes from you, I ingraft you new.
19
O, Vrijeme, sreži lavu pandže grube,
Daj tlu da proždre porod kojim vrvi,
Izbij iz ralja divljem tigru zube,
Feniksa spali u živoj mu krvi,
Godišnja doba mijenjaj u svom létu,
Čìni što hoćeš, Vrijeme bȓzō, žêdnō,
I prolaznoj ljepoti i svem svijetu,
Al zlòdjelo zabranjujem ti jèdno: O nè brazdaj mom milom čelo jasno,
Nè šaraj perom oštrim ga, nek bude,
Dopùsti, ovō obličje mu krasno
Uzorak lijepi za buduće ljude.
Najveće zlo učìni: al i tȁd
U stihu mom on bit će vječno mlad.
19
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood,
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood,
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet’st,
And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets:
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime,
O carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine àntique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty’s pattern to succeeding men.
Yet do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
30
Kada u družbu míslī tihih blagih
Prizòvem stare uspomene nijeme,
Žalim zbog stvárī što ih žudjeh, dragih,
S nȍva me peče slatkō prošlō vrijeme:
Nenàviklim ja okom plačem tad
Za drâgima što noć ih smrti krije,
Ljubavi dávno prošlē ćuteć jad,
Jecam zbog mnoštva prizora od prȉje;
Tugujem tad zbog bivših patnjā svojih,
I zbrajam bol po bôl do mjere pune
Proùzdisanih uzdaha zbog kojih,
Ko da već nisam, plaćam još račune.
Al ako tad mi miso ná te dôđē,
Sav se gubitak vrâtī a bol prôđē.
30
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste;
Then can I drown an eye (unused to flow)
For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
And weep afresh love’s long since cancelled woe,
And moan th’expense of many a vanished sight.
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee (dear friend)
All losses are restored, and sorrows end.
64
Kad vidim kako Vrȅmena pest kruta
Iznakazila sjaj je prošlog doba,
Kad vidim tórnje strte pokraj puta,
I uništenu vječnu broncu groba,
Kad vidim gladni ocean gdje žderuć
Kraljevstvo žála sve ga više dubi,
I tlo što, k moru sve se više steruć,
Gubeći stječe a stječući gubi;
Kad gledam sve te mijene raznih stánjā,
I stanje svijeta, roba smrti nijeme,
Dovodi ta me slika do saznanja:
I moju ljubav uzet će mi Vrijeme.
Ta svijest, ko smrt mi, plàčem će me ubit,
Jer imam ono što me strah izgubit.
64
When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced
The rich proud cost of outworn buried age,
When sometime lofty towers I see down razed,
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
And the firm soil win of the wat’ry main,
Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;
When I have seen such interchange of state,
Or state itself confounded to decay,
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate:
That Time will come and take my love away.
This thought is as a death which cannot choose
But weep to have that which it fears to loose.
73
U meni možeš gledat ònō vrijeme
Kad rijetko žuto lišće visi nȉcē
S grana što drhte od hladnoće, nijeme
Ko prazni kôr gdje pjevale su ptice;
U meni vidiš dan što mora proći
Iduć na zapad u svoj blijedi pokoj,
Jer ga polàko vuče tama noći,
Ta druga smrt, što svemu nosi spokoj;
U meni vidiš takvog ognja plam
Što nà pepelu mladih dánā gòrī
Kao na odru gdje će zgasnut sâm,
Jer to što hrana bje mu sad ga mòrī:
To gledaš stog da možeš jače ljubit
Onō što moraš ubrzo izgubit.
73
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.
12
Kad brojim ure što ih kuca sat,
I gledam dan gdje u noć strašnu trne,
Kad vidim kako ljubici mre cvat,
I kako srebro hvata kose crne,
Kad gorda stabla promatram, sva gola,
Što stada prije štitila su hladom,
I ljetno žito stavljeno na kȍla
U snoplju s bijelom, raščupanom bradom,
Tad mislim na ljepotu tvoju krasnu,
Da s vremenom ćeš ì ti tako pȁst,
Jer čari i ljepòte sáme zgasnu,
I brzo mru dok motre drugih râst;
Odoljet kosi koju Vrijeme njiše
Tek sinom ćeš, kad nè budē te više.
12
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night,
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silvered o’er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard:
Then of thy beauty do I question make
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves
forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow,
And nothing ’gainst Time’s scythe can make
defence
Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee
hence.
57
Budući da sam rob ti, što da činim
Nego da čekam tek na tvoje želje?
Ne trošim skûpō vrijeme, niti inim
Služim, već nalog tvoj mi je vesélje;
Ne smijem korit vječnost ònū, vrijeme
Dok, vladaru moj, bdim pred urom strogom,
Nit mislit na odsùstva sate nijeme
Kad slugi svom poželio si zbogom;
Ne smijem pitat, ljubomoran tako,
Gdje mogao bi biti, il što radiš,
Već kao tužan rob tek mislim kako
Sretni su oni kojim družbu sladiš.
Ljubav je takva lȕda da sve to
Što činiš tî, ne izgleda joj zlȍ.
Separation
57
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I (my sovereign) watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu.
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But like a sad slave stay and think of nought
Save where you are how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love that in your will
(Though you do any thing) he thinks no ill.
29
Kad od Fortûne prezren i od ljúdî,
Tuzi izgnanstva posve sâm se predam,
I krikom gluhi svod mi mȕče grudi,
I kunem sudbu i sam sebe gledam –
Kao taj želeć bogat bit, pun nádē,
Lijep kao onaj, s krugom prijatéljā,
Da vješt sam i da znam što drugi znáde,
Bez svega što je radost mi i želja,
Ipak se tebe, prezirući žíće,
Sjetim, i tad mi zanos što me hvata,
Ko ševa koja s mrkog tla dok sviće
Diže se, himnom slȁvī rajska vrata:
Jer tvoja ljubav tako mi je zlato,
Da s kraljem ne bih mijenjao se zato.
29
When, in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heav’n with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends posses’d,
Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contended least;
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 rememb’red such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with Kings.
97
Kako bje zími nalik dok kad jȁdno
Bèz tebe bjeh, ti čâri hitrih ljêtā!
Kakav mrak gledah, kako bje mi hladno,
Kako pûst bje to prosinac pun sjêtā!
Premda to vrijeme bješe ljetno vrijeme,
Blâga je jesen što bogàtstvo pruža
Nosila teret, proljeća svog sjeme,
Ko trûdnē žène nakon smrti muža:
Al bje mi plod te ljetine bogàtē
Nalik siròti koja oca nema,
Jer ljeto čeka s radostima ná te
I bèz tebe je svaka ptica nijema,
Il ako poje, izgled tužan ima
Pa lišće žútī strepeć da će zima.
97
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December’s bareness every where!
And yet this time removed was summer’s time,
The teeming autumn big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime,
Like widowed wombs after their lords’ decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me
But hope of orphans, and unfathered fruit,
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.
50
Kako mi vrlo težak put je cijeli,
kad to što tražim (trudnog puta kraj),
U predahu i odmoru mi veli:
„Tako od dragog sve si dalje, znaj.“
Konj što me nosi, umoran i spor
Od jada mog, moj teret vuče cio,
Kao da zna po nagonu taj stvor
Da jahač mu od tȅbe ne bi htio:
Ostrugom nije podbosti ga lako,
Koja mu katkad kožu gnjevno siječe,
Na što on bolno sav zastenje tako
Da više mene neg njega to peče,
Jer taj mi jecaj pomisao prene:
Bol leži ispred, radost iza mȅne.
50
How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I seek (my weary travel’s end)
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
“Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend.”
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know
His rider loved not speed being made from thee:
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on,
That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
Which heavily he answers with a groan,
More sharp to me than spurring to his side;
For that same groan doth put this in my mind:
My grief lies onward and my joy behind.
44
Da misao je têška tvar mog tijela,
Daljina kruta smetala mi nè bi,
Jer tad unátoč prostoru bi, smjèla,
Iz nâjdaljih krajévā došla k tebi:
Svejedno tad kolìko bih ti ja
Dalèko bio, u nājdȁljem kutu,
Jer bȓza miso môre i tlo zna
Preskočiti čim smisli cilj svom putu.
Al miso me da nisam miso mòrī,
Da svȅ tê milje nè mogu preskočit,
Već da, stog što me prah i voda tvori,
Suzama moram pûsto vrijeme mòčit;
Elèmenta tâ dva, taj okov krut,
Sûza mi izvor tek su – znak im ljut!
44
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way,
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth removed from thee,
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land
As soon as think the place where he would be.
But ah, thought kills me that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that, so much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time’s leisure with my moan,
Receiving naught by elements so slow
But heavy tears, badges of either’s woe.
27
Od umora u krevet žurim sad,
Da odmorim od puta svoja úda;
U glavi počne tad mog uma rad
I pût, dok tijelo počiva od trúda:
Jer miso tad mi iz dalèka krene
Na hȍdočašće k tebi, žarko ide,
I búdnim drži sanjive mi zjene,
Videć u mraku ko što slijepci vide:
Vid moje duše tada maštom plamnom
Tvoj lik pred slijepim očima mi grâdi
Ko dragulj koji sja u mraku tamnom,
Da staru noć uljèpša i pomládī.
Danju, gle, tijelo, noću duša sva,
Zbog nas dva, mira nema mi, ni sna.
27
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired,
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired;
For then my thoughts (from far where I abide)
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see;
Save that my soul’s imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which like a jewel (hung in ghastly night)
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face
new.
Lo thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.
49
Od dánā, ako ikad budu došli,
Kad mrštit se na moje počneš máne,
Kad tvoja ljubav, òd njih što su prošli,
Závršni točni račun tražit stane,
Od dánā kad ćeš kao stranac proći
I pogledat me jedva suncem zjȅnē,
Kad ohlađena ljubav lako moći
Naći će važan razlog s kojeg vene:
Od njih se branim, ogradu sam nižem
I sviješću je o kobi svojoj zidam,
U korist tebi ruku svoju dižem
Da razlozima tvojim važnost pridam.
Ostavljaš s právom ti me, jer ni jèdan
Razlog za ljubav ne znam navest, bijedan.
49
Against that time (if ever that time come)
When I shall see thee frown on my defécts,
Whenas thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
Called to that audit by advised respects;
Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,
And scarcely greet me with that sun thine eye,
When love converted from the thing it was
Shall reasons find of settled gravity:
Against that time do I insconce me here
Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
And this my hand against myself uprear,
To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:
To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,
Since why to love I can allege no cause.
87
Zbogom – preskûp si a da moj bi bio,
I dobro svjestan vlastite si cijene:
Vrjednosnī list tvoj sad je spas ti cio,
Obvezā više nemaš glede mȅne.
Kako da bèz tvog pristanka te imam?
Zaslugu kàkvu to mi blâgo plâćā?
Právo ja nemam da taj dar još primam
Pa povlastica stog se natrag vraća.
Ne znajuć svoju vrijednost tî se dȁde,
Il mene, kom se dȁde, krivo shvȁti,
Stog dar taj, što mi greškom ù vlast pȁde,
Na prosudbu ti treba da se vrati.
Imah te kao ù snu koji vara –
Kralj ù njem bjeh, al zòrōm nȅsta čara.
87
Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know’st thy estimate;
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing:
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
Thy self thou gav’st, thy own worth then not
knowing,
Or me, to whom thou gav’st it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
Comes home again, on better judgement making.
Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter,
In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.
149
Možeš li reći da te jâ ne ljûbim,
Kad sâm se protiv sȅbe tȍbom služim?
Zar nè mislim na tȅbe, i ne gubim
Sebe, da dokaz, okrutnoj ti, pružim?
Zar prijatelj sam s kim što tebe mrzi?
Zar blizak tom sam na kog mrštiš zjene?
Zar kad si gruba sa mnom uzdah brzi,
Svéteć mi stog se, ne potrése mene?
Zar cijenim ònē svoje dobre strane
Što im je tebi služit ìspod čâsti,
Kad svȅ nâjbȍlje ù meni i máne
Obožava ti, oku tvom u vlasti.
Al, mŕzi me, jer vȍlī duh tvoj lijep
Tek tê što vidē, znam – a ja sam slijep.
Jealousy
149
Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not,
When I against myself with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee when I forgot
Am of myself all tyrant for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon?
Nay, if thou lour’st on me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in myself respect
That is so proud thy service to despise,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind:
Those that can see thou lov’st, and I am blind.
147
Ko groznica je ljubav mi i žudi
Stalno za onim što je jačom tvori,
Hraneć se svim što daljnju bolest nudi,
Da têk hiròvit bolesniku dvòrī.
Moj razum, liječnik ljubavi te, sâm,
Ljut što odbácih savjete mu sve,
Napustio me, i sad bijedan znam
Da želja smrt je, da se zbog nje mre.
Ja nemam lijeka, razum uma nema,
Luđak sam što ga nemir stalno mori;
Misli i riječi sulude posvèma
Moj jezik brblja i bez smisla zbori;
Da lijepa si i sjajna, kleh se lako,
A ti si cŕna kao noć i pako.
147
My love is a fever longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are
At random from the truth vainly expressed:
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
120
Što jèdnōm grub bje sa mnom to mi sada
Pomaže, zbòg tog bola što bje velik
Savio bi me grijeh što ná me pada,
Da nemam živce kao mjed il čelik;
Ako si zloćom mojom tako bio
Pogođen, ko ja tvojom, to bje pako,
A tiran jâ odvagnut nisam htio
Tada tvoj grijeh s kog nekoć trpjeh jako!
O, da noć naše patnje sjetit znala
Srce je kako prava bol ga kida,
I da je, ko ti meni, odmah dala
Blagi ti lijek što ranjenu grud vîdā!
Ali taj grijeh tvoj sad je dar bez cijene:
Moj će iskupit tvoj, tvoj môrā mene.
120
That you were once unkind befriends me now,
And for that sorrow which I then did feel
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammerèd steel.
For if you were by my unkindness shaken
As I by yours, y’have passed a hell of time,
And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
O that our night of woe might have rememb’red
My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
And soon to you, as you to me then tend’red
The humble salve which wounded bosoms fits!
But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
93
Živjet ću poput prevarenog muža
Vjerujuć da si vjeran; ljubav skrije
Promjenu premda isti privid pruža, Zjene su tvoje sa mnom, srce nije;
Kako ti mržnja ìz oka ne vrcā,
Ne mogu stog prepòznat tvoje mijene,
U zjeni mnogih ljudi himba srca
Pisana jest, i bijes, i mrke sjene:
Ali tebi već s rođénjem nebo dȁde
Da nà tvom licu ljubav vječno sja, Bez obzira što um i srce râdē
Tvoj pogled samo slast kazívat zna.
Evinoj nalik jabuci si kad
Vrlìna ti i lîk ne tvore sklad.
93
So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
Like a deceived husband; so love’s face
May still seem love to me, though altered new:
Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place.
For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
Therefore in that I cannot know thy change;
In many’s looks, the false heart’s history
Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange,
But heaven in thy creation did decree
That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
What e’er thy thoughts or thy heart’s workings be,
Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness
tell.
How like Eve’s apple doth thy beauty grow,
If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!
92
Najgoru stvar učìni, sebe, daj,
Ukrádi mi, al moj sav vijek ćeš biti;
Čim umre ljubav žíću bit će kraj,
Jer ga za tvòju ljubav vežu nîti:
Ne moram bojat nâjgorih se zálā,
Kad žiću kraj mi nàjmanje zlo nudi,
Kob mi, gle, bolju ulogu je dala
Nego o tvojoj da ovisim ćudi;
Nestalnost tvoja bol mi zadat neće
Jer ona baš životu mome prijeti.
Oh, otkrio sam izvor svoje sreće –
Ljubio sam te, mogu dakle mrijêti!
Tkȍ tako čist je da ne pòznā blato?
Možda si himben, al ja ne znam zà to.
92
But do thy worst to steal thyself away,
For term of life thou art assured mine,
And life no longer than thy love will stay,
For it depends upon that love of thine.
Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
When in the least of them my life hath end;
I see a better state to me belongs
Than that which on thy humour doth depend.
Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie:
O what a happy title do I find,
Happy to have thy love, happy to die!
But what’s so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
138
Kad draga se na način kune čedan,
Vjerujem ja joj, premda znam da laže,
Kad smatra da sam naivan stvor jedan,
Neuk za igre što u svijetu vážē.
Oholo misleć da sam zà nju mlad,
Premda zna ona da već prođoh svoje,
Jeziku lažnom vjerujem joj tad:
Tako na obje strane lȁži stòjē.
Što nè kaže mi da me stalno vara?
Što nè kažem joj da me starost bije?
Vjernost je privid što ga ljubav stvara,
Zaljubljen starac starost svoju krije.
Stoga ja s njom, a ona sa mnom laže
Pa laskave te lȁži grijeh naš blâžē.
138
When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearnèd in the world’s false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told.
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flattered be.
61
Da l tvojom voljom lik tvoj moje zjene
Búdnima drži ȕ noć têšku, dùgū?
Da l tvojom željom tebi slične sjene
Kvare mi sne, izlažuć vid moj rúgu?
Da li to duh svoj, što od dòma svoga
Dalèko sad je, šalješ da na djela
Vreba mi, srâmnā il dòkonā, stoga
Što ljȕbomora dokaz bi ti htjela?
O ne, tolìka ljubav tvoja nije;
Moja mi ljubav usnut ne da lako –
To moja vjerna ljubav svunoć bdije,
Stražára radi tȅbe glumeć tako:
Zbog tebe bdim, dok ì ti bdiš u dugim
Noćima, dalek meni, prebliz drugim.
61
Is it thy will thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee
So far from home into my deeds to pry,
To find out shames and idle hours in me,
The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?
O no, thy love, though much, is not so great;
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the watchman ever for thy sake.
For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
From me far off, with others all too near.
110
Istina, svuda lutao sam, jao,
Od sebe lȕdu pravio, u šáre
Odjévō čuvstva, nȉ za što sve dao,
Vrijeđajuć novim ljubavima stâre;
Istina, prȁvo ȕ oči sve manje
Istinu tu sam gledao: al to je
Srcu mi dalo novu mladost, znanje
Da nema bolje od ljubavi tvoje.
Sad kraj je, primi to što nema kraja:
Kušnjama novim neću brusit strasti,
Da prijatelj mi stâri stog ne zdvâja –
Ljubavi bog što drži me u vlasti.
Dobròdošlicu, kakvu raj mi nudi,
Nek stog mi pruže čiste tvoje grudi.
129
Trošenje snáge u kaljuži srama
To je strast, i dok traje, strast je tâ
Krvava, pòdla, grešna je, sve slâmā,
Nepòuzdana, divljā, krúta, zlȁ,
Prezrena brzo zbog užitka kratkog,
Traći se lûdo ali čim se nâđē
Lûdo se mrzi, poput mamca slatkog
Bačenog da ga lûd progùta slađe, Lúda kad goni i kad ščepa, ista,
Dìvljā kad žudi, bje, jest, bit će med
Dok kuša se, a onda patnja čìstā,
Čȅkānā sreća, potom privid blijed.
Sve to svijet zna, al nitko ne zna kako
Izbjeć taj raj što vodi ga u pako.
142
Ljubav je grijeh moj a tvoja vrlìna
Mŕzi ga, grešno ljubeći i òna:
O, usporedi ta dva naša čîna
Pa korit tad ih nećeš biti sklona,
Budeš li, nemoj usnama tim kojim,
Skrnaveći im rumen, lažno znala
Pečatit strast si, kao ì ja mojim,
Dok drugima si plijen iz lôga krala.
Dopùsti mi da volim te ko ì ti
Onē što okom goniš ih da pate;
U srce posij sućut što će biti,
Kad nikne, razlog sućuti i zá te.
Tražiš li zá se što dat’ nisi rȁda,
Neka ti molba odbije se tada!
110
Alas ‘tis true, I have gone here and there,
And made myself a motley to the view,
Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is
most dear,
Made old offences of affections new.
Most true it is that I have looked on truth
Askance and strangely; but, by all above,
These blenches gave my heart another youth,
And worse essays proved thee my best of love.
Now all is done, have what shall have no end:
Mine appetite I never more will grind
On newer proof, to try an older friend,
Agod in love, to whom I am confined.
Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.
129
Th’expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action, and till action, lust
Is perjured, murd’rous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Enjoyed no sooner but despisèd straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had,
Past reason hated as a swallowed bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad:
Mad in pursuit and in possession so,
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
Abliss in proof, and proved, a very woe,
Before, a joy proposed, behind, a dream.
All this the world well knows yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
142
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving.
O but with mine compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,
Or if it do, not from those lips of thine,
That have profaned their scarlet ornaments,
And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robbed others’ beds’ revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov’st those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee;
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows,
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
By self-example mayst thou be denied.
90
Pa mŕzi me kad hoćeš – ì to sȁd –
Sȁd, kad bi svijet da sva mi djela zbriše,
S Kobi zlom združen moj priprémi pad,
Nè budi zadnja kap što kraj mi piše;
Ah, nemoj, kad mi bol već prôđe, doći
Ko pojačanje svladanom već vaju,
Nemoj dan kȉšan davat burnoj noći,
Da produžiš tim vijek mom nužnom kraju.
Ako me želiš ostavit, ne rádi
To zadnji, kad me sitne boli smrve,
Nego na jȕriš ùdri: da me jȁdi
Nâjgore kobi unište isp ve: Sve druge bôli, nàizgled sad snážne,
Izgubim li te, čini će se lažne.
145
Te usne što ih Ljubav stvȍri
Rekoše riječ što glasi: „Mrzim“
Meni kog čežnja zbog nje mori,
Al kad mi vidje bol tad brzim
Načinom sućut grud joj prȍže
Koreć joj jezik, koji znáde
Biti joj blag, što može strože,
Učeć’ ga nov da pozdrav dáde;
To „Mrzim“ prȅpravi tad ona
Dodatkom koji ko dan bijeli
Slijedi noć što se ko sotòna
U pakao s nebésā seli,
Izreče „Mrzim“, a tad spas
Pružî mi šapćuć: „al ne vâs“.
71
Kad umrem nemoj dulje žalit zȁ mnom
Od zvona kad ga čuješ s viješću prvom
Da s lošeg svijeta pođoh da u tamnom
Svom grobu živim s još lošijim crvom.
Budeš li stih taj čitao, nek briše
Iz sjećanja se tvoga dlan što sad
Piše ga, jer te volim pa bih više
Zaborav htio, neg ti zadat jad.
Oh, ali ako pogledaš ná nj, vèlîm,
Kad pomiješan već budem s hrpom gline,
Ni ime nemoj spomenut mi, želim
Da sa mnom tad i tvòja ljubav mînē;
Nek nè gleda ti svijet u plȁčne zjene,
Rugajuć ti se, tad kad nema mene.
90
Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,
Now while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of Fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss.
Ah do not, when my heart hath scaped this
sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquered woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come; so shall I taste
At first the very worst of Fortune’s might;
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.
145
Those lips that Love’s own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said “I hate”
To me that languished 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 altered with an end
That followed 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.”
Time Defeated
71
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world with vildest worms to dwell;
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it, for I love you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O if (I say) you look upon this verse,
When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,
But let your love even with my life decay,
Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
And mock you with me after I am gone.
146
Jezgro mog grešnog praha, dušo jadnā,
Što sapinju te moći koje nîžeš,
Zašto u sebi veneš, patiš gládna,
A vanjski zid ukrašavaš i dižeš?
Zbog čega tako mnogo, a za kràtko,
Trošiš na kȕću što već puca cijéla?
Zar da ti crvi, nasljednici, slȁtko
Pojedu trud? Zar to je cilj tvog tijela?
Stog, dušo, žívi na račun tvog sluge,
Jȅdi, a njemu nek uzmànjka hrane,
Bezvrijedne dâne daj za vječne, dùgē,
Krupnjaj iznútra, gùbi s vanjske strane,
Tako ćeš Smrt, što ljude guta, strti,
Progutati, a tad se nè boj smrti.
146
Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
Feeding these rebel pow’rs that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body’s end?
Then, soul, live thou upon thy servants’ loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more:
So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men,
And death once dead, there’s no more dying then
60
Kao što k žalu val po vâl se lije,
Tako nam kraju svom trenuci žure,
Mijenjajuć svoje mjesto s onim prije
Jedan za drugim neprestano jure.
Dijete, u môru svjetla što se rodi,
K zrelosti puzi, okrunjeno slavno,
S tminama kobnim za sjaj bitku vodi,
A Vrijeme uzme dar mu dât već davno.
Vrijeme progríze mladosti lijep cvijet,
I dúbe brazde ljepoti u čelo,
Proždre svu rijetkost što je krije svijet,
Kosa mu kȍsī baš sve što je zrelo.
Budućnost ipak čȕti stih će moj,
I hválu ti, unátoč kosi zloj.
60
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
Crooked eclipses ’gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
116
Neka brak srodnih duša i stvorénjā
Zapreka nema: ljubav ljubav nije
Ako se, čim se s mijenom srȅtnē, mijenja,
Il skrene vjerom kad se vjernost skrije.
O, ne! to svjetiònik jest što ljûtā
Olujnā mora motri, stamen, jak,
Zvijezda je svakoj barci koja luta
Ne znajuć moć joj, premda joj je znak.
Vremenu Ljubav nije lȕda bijedna
Prem rujne usne, obraz, srp mu čeka,
Ne mijenja svakog sata se, ni tjedna,
Već traje sve dok svijeta je i vijeka.
Ako sam dokaz da se varam stoga,
Nit pisah što, nit ljubljaše tko koga.
116
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;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his heighth be
taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and
cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Preveo
Luko Paljetak
About Shakespeare Sonnets
Just to say ‘cow’ in certain parts of the
world, you can have as many as fifty words
at your disposal. But for ‘love’ ‘hate’ ‘sin’ only
one short word has to cover all that vast
dictionaries can hardly define; And not one
of their explanations can evoke the physical
experience that gives the word its true
meaning.
This is what an actor is for. Because of his
presence, linked to the presence of an
audience, an actor can give immediate life to
words so that they seem to rise up directly
from the writer’s heart.
This astonishing collection allows us to
penetrate into Shakespeare’s own, most
secret life. It is his private diary, in which we
find his intimate questions, his jealousy, his
passions, his guilt, his despair. Above all, he
searches to discover for himself the deep
meaning of being attracted by a man or by a
woman, even by the act of writing itself.
It was not easy to choose between 154
sonnets. I needed to find a dramatic
continuity and was guided by the hidden
tensions that arise in a relationship between
two people.
At first, Shakespeare evokes a shared
tranquillity, but little by little the pains of love
appear: there is separation, then infidelity
and treachery which lead to a disgust of the
body and flesh. But in a final phrase,
Shakespeare affirms the reality of a love that
can transcend all barriers that is even more
powerful than age or death.
For love can conquer time.
Natasha Parry and Bruce Myers bring their
long experience of Shakespeare and their
own humanity to serve these unique
confessions.
In an obscure catalogue, it is mentioned that
Shakespeare had already considered
publishing certain sonnets in 1600.
However, no edition appeared and
Shakespeare kept the sonnets in
manuscript. During the Great Plague
between 1606 and 1610, all the London
theatres were closed and a simple need for
income could have pushed Shakespeare to
publication. We cannot be sure.
All that we can deduce is that the syntax, the
choice of words and the allusions to
contemporary events suggest that the last
poems were written around 1604, the period
of Measure for Measure, King Lear, and
Othello.
Peter Brook
Peter BROOK
Peter Brook was born in London in 1925. He
directed his first play there in 1943. He then
went on to direct over 70 productions in
London, Paris and New York. His work with
the Royal Shakespeare Company includes
Love’s Labour’s Lost (1946), Measure for
Measure (1950), Titus Andronicus (1955),
King Lear (1962), Marat/Sade (1964), US
(1966), A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1970)
and Antony and Cleopatra (1978).
In 1971, he founded the International Centre
for Theatre Research in Paris and in 1974,
opened its permanent base in the Bouffes
du Nord Theatre. There, he directed Timon
of Athens, The Ik, Ubu aux Bouffes,
Conference of the Birds, L’Os, The Cherry
Orchard, The Mahabharata, Woza Albert!,
The Tempest, The Man Who, Qui est là?, O!
les Beaux Jours, Je suis un Phénomène, Le
Costume, The Tragedy of Hamlet, Far Away,
La Mort de Krishna, Ta Main dans la
Mienne, Le Grand Inquisiteur, Tierno Bokar,
Sizwe Banzi is Dead and Love is my sin
– many of these performing both in French
and English.
In opera, he directed La Bohème, Boris
Godounov, The Olympians, Salomé and Le
Nozze de Figaro at Covent Garden; Faust
and Eugene Onegin at the Metropolitan
Opera House, New York, La Tragédie de
Carmen and Impressions of Pelleas, at the
Bouffes du Nord, Paris and Don Giovanni for
the Aix en Provence Festival.
Peter Brook’s autobiography, Threads of
Time, was published in 1998 and joins other
titles including The Empty Space (1968) –
translated into over 15 languages, The
Shifting Point (1987), Evoking (and
Forgetting) Shakespeare (2002), and There
are no Secrets (1993).
His films include The Beggar’s Opera, Lord
of the Flies, Marat/Sade, King Lear,
Moderato Cantabile, The Mahabharata and
Meetings with Remarkable Men.
Bruce MYERS
Born in England, Bruce Myers studied at the
Royal Academy of Dramatic Art before
working at the Liverpool Everyman. In 1968
he became a member of the Royal
Shakespeare Company which he left in 1970
to join the International Centre of Theatre
Research created in Paris by Peter Brook.
He took part in all the theatre adventures of
the Centre. Memorable journeys followed
each other: Iran, Orghast for the Festival of
Shiraz; crossing Africa from Algers to Lagos;
a long stay in California working with Luis
Valdez’s Teatro Campesino followed by
workshops in New York at Brooklyn
Academy of Music.
In this way he becomes a part of CICT
(International Centre of Theatre Creations)
founded by Peter Brook in 1974. He has
participated in nearly all the productions
created at the Bouffes du Nord: Timon of
Athens, The Iks, Ubu aux Bouffes, Measure
for Measure, The Conference of the Birds,
The Mahabharata, The Tempest, The Man
Who, Je suis un phénomène, Hamlet and
Tierno Bokar.
For nearly three years, from 2005 to 2008,
he went around the world touring with a solo
performance created by Peter Brook: The
Grand Inquisitor after Brothers Karamazov
by Dostoievski.
He wrote and directed A Dybbuk for Two. He
also directed The Well of the Saints in 1992.
In cinema he played Krishna in the screen
version of The Mahabharata. He also
appeared in Présumé dangereux (1990) by
Georges Lautner, Disparus (1998) by Gilles
Bourdos and made three films with Michel
Deville: Eaux profondes (1981), Toutes
peines confondues (1992) and Un monde
presque paisible (1997). He made two films
with Philip Kaufman: The Unbearable
Lightness of Being (1987) and Henry & June
(1990).
For several years now Bruce Myers has
directed workshops with students and young
actors. The last projects took place in Rome,
Turin and Prato.
Natasha PARRY
Natasha Parry’s stage debut was at the age
of 12 when she was chosen by Michael
Redgrave from the Arts Educational theatre
school to appear in Wingless Victory by
Maxwell Anderson at the Phoenix Theatre,
London. She was 14 when she first played
Shakespeare in A Midsummer Night’s
Dream with John Gielgud and Peggy
Ashcroft at the Royal Haymarket Theatre,
London. She has acted in theatre, cinema
and television with actors and directors
including Alec Guiness, John Mills, Orson
Wells and with Rex Harrison on Broadway.
She was one of the original members of
Peter Brook’s International Centre of Theatre
Research. They performed an experimental
Tempest at the Round House in London,
before continuing their work in Paris, later
travelling to Africa, Iran, Australia and the
U.S. performing Orghast, Timon of Athens,
The Ik and The Conference of the Birds.
She returned to England to play in A
Streetcar Named Desire and at the RSC’s
Stratford and London bases Hippolytus,
Measure for Measure and Children of the
Sun by Maxim Gorki, directed by Terry
Hands.
Later, Peter Brook directed her in The
Cherry Orchard with Michel Piccoli, Tchin
Tchin opposite Marcello Mastroianni,
Beckett’s Happy Days in French, which she
performed over 350 times in Paris, followed
by a worldwide tour, including London at the
Riverside Studios and in 2001, she played in
Brook’s The Tragedy of Hamlet at the
Bouffes du Nord which came to the Young
Vic during its world tour. She played in
London, opposite Michel Piccoli, in Peter
Brook’s production of Ta Main dans la
Mienne.
Natasha Parry’s work with other directors in
Paris includes The Night of the Iguana,
Kabale et Amour, Richard III and Maurice
Bejart’s production of Mishima’s 5 Modern
Noh plays.
In London, she has notably played
Clytemnestra in Deborah Warner’s Electra at
the RSC, in Declan Donnellan’s Hamlet,
Mme de Sade at the Almeida and Brian
Cox’s production of Mrs Warren’s Profession
at the Orange Tree.
Her films include Monsieur Ripois (U.S title
Knave of Hearts) by René Clement, with
Gerard Philippe, Midnight Lace made in
Hollywood with Doris Day, Franco Zefirelli’s
Romeo and Juliet, Peter Brook’s Meetings
with Remarkable Men, La Fille Prodique by
Jacques Doillon and Le Lit by Marion
Hansel.
Franck KRAWCZYK
Born in 1969, son of an accordionist, Franck
Krawczyk is a pianist and composer. His
masters are Serge Petitgirard and Claude
Helffer for piano and Philippe Manoury and
Gilbert Amy for composition. Very early on in
his career his was discovered by the Paris
Autumn Festival. He has composed many
pieces for piano, violoncello, string quartets
and ensembles. In 2000, he was awarded
the Hervé Dugardin Prize as well as the
Sacem Prize for ’Ruines’, his composition for
orchestra.
He transcribed works (Vivaldi, Chopin,
Wagner, Schöenberg) for the Accentus/
Laurence Equilbey Choir, as well as
MittelEuropa for the violoncellist SoniaAtherton (CD and DVD Chants d’Est).
Between 2001 and 2008, he created, with
Christian Boltanski and Jean Kalman, a
dozen or so performances in France, Italy
and Poland, mixing music with installation
Marie-Hélène ESTIENNE
(Bienvenue, O Mensch !, Happy Hours, Plein
Jour / Le Soir / La Nuit / Le Matin, Tant que
nous sommes vivants, Les Limbes, Freude,
Poki my zyjemy… and Gute Nacht).
He is currently working on creating new
music forms for theatre (Je ris de me voir si
belle, 2005 with J. Brochen), for readings
(Les Limbes, Absence, with E. Ostrovski),
for video (Private Joke with F. Salès) and for
dance (Purgatorio-In Visione, 2008 with E;
Greco and P.C. Scholten). And in 2010 we
can hear his two new works (Opéra
Comique, Grand Palais/ Monumenta).
He teaches chamber music at the Lyon
“Conservatoire National Supérieur” for
Music and Dance.
Marie-Hélène Estienne has taken part in
many theatre and cinema projects as author
and production assistant. While a journalist
at Le Nouvel Observateur and Les
Nouvelles Littéraires, she became Michel
Guy’s assistant, working on the
programming of the Paris Festival
d’Automne.
In 1974 she worked on the casting of Peter
Brook’s Timon of Athens. She joined
C.I.C.T. in 1977 for Ubu aux Bouffes and has
since been production assistant for all the
Centre’s work. She was also Brook’s
assistant for La Tragédie de Carmen and
The Mahabharata and artistic collaborator
for The Tempest, Impressions de Pelléas
and more recently The Tragedy of Hamlet
(2000). This collaboration developed to
include dramaturgy for Woza Albert !, The
Man Who, and Qui est là ?. She coauthored, with Peter Brook, Je suis un
Phénomène, presented at Théâtre des
Bouffes du Nord (1998). She was the author
of the French language adaptation of Le
Costume (“The Suit”) by Can Themba,
created in 1999 at Théâtre des Bouffes du
Nord as well as Far away, by Caryl Churchill
in 2002. She collaborates on all the aspects
of the work and together with Jean Claude
Carrière has signed the texts of La Tragédie
d’Hamlet (2002) and La Mort de Krishna.
She recently made the French adaptation of
Ta main dans la mienne by Carol Rocamora,
signed in 2003 the theatrical adaptation of
Le Grand Inquisiteur by Dostoïevski and in
2004, Tierno Bokar from Amadou Hampaté
Bâ’s works. She lately adapted to French the
play Sizwe Banzi is Dead by Athol Fugard,
John Kani and Winston Ntshona.