William Shakespeare

[blueella]

U zrcalo se pogledaj i kaži
Tom licu: Sad je cas da novo stvaraš,
Jer ako sebe ne obnoviš, draži
Njegovom svijet, i neku ženu, varaš.
Gdje je ta, tako lijeka, da tvom plugu
U utrobu neuzoranu ne da?
Il taj što sam svom samoljublju drugu
Grobnicu gradi, da tu porod preda?
Zrcalo ti si majci u kom lako
Mladosti svoje Travanj gleda cvatno;
Kroz okna starih ljeta i ti tako
Gledat ceš ovo svoje doba zlatno.
Al ako spomen želiš zatrt grobom,
Umrijet sam ceš, ti, i lik tvoj s tobom.

[blueella]

"Ko ce vjerovati mom stihu u vremenu sto dolazi
Ako bude popunjen s tvojim najvisim odlikama?
Ali jos, nebesa znaju , ko grobnica da je
Sto skivaju tvoj zivot i pokazuju ni pola tvojega bica.
Kad bih mogao napisati ljepotu ociju tvojih
I brojevima vrlim nabrojati tvoje vrline.
Godine sto dolaze bi rekle "Ovaj pjesnik Laze!
Tako nadnebeski dodir ne tace zemaljsko lice."
Trebaju li onda moji papiri zutu poprimiti boju,
Biti ko starac prezren sa manje istine no jezik.

I tvoja prava istinom data, gnjev pjesnika biti.
I protegnut metar anticke pijesme neke.
Ali zivi li tada neko djete tvoje,
Zivjet ces dvaput,
Kroz njeg i kroz rime moje."

[blueella]

Ko nesiguran glumac sto sred scene
Zaboravlja svoj tekst jer strah ga zgrabi,
Il zestok covjek kojem zanos vene
Puni i grud mu preobiljem slabi,
Tako si kazat zaboravljam i ja
Do savrsenstva svu ljubav,zbog treme,
I mrem od snage ljubavi jer svija
Njene me moci vlastito breme;
Iz knjiga stog nek rjecitost mi zbori,
Nek nijem sam tumac rjecite mi grudi,
Sto se za ljubav i za placu bori
Vise neg jezik sto se glasom trudi:
Znaj citat to sto tiha ljubav pise; Ljubav zna slusat okom, i još vise.

[Lillith]

Sekspir Besmrtni rekla bih jer njegova djela su van vremenska...
Pisao je istorijske drame,komedije,tragedje u koje je uvek upletao nesto iz svog vremena,dajuci notu patriotizma,kritikujuci i podrzavajuci svet oko sebe...
U svojim djelima uglavnom je obradjivao teme koje se doticu najvecih ljudskih grijehova,mana,unutrasnjih previranja ali i ljubavi...Bio je ,po meni,odlican poznavalac psihologije i to je unio u svako svoje delo,slikajuci svojom recju sve ono sto se nalazi u nama i dajuci tako besmrtnost svojim delima,pa i samom sebi..
I danas,dovoljno je da se osvrnemo oko sebe i mozemo prepoznati u svojim savremenicima likove iz njegovih djela,vecinu verujem i medju licnim poznanicima...

Odabrala sam meni najdrazi sonet

CXVI

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 wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height 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.

Prevod

Ne priznajem prepreke
za brak vernih dusa
Ljubav nije ljubav
Koja se menja kad naidje na promjenu
ili odlazi sa onim koji odlazi...
O,ne!To je vjecni putokaz
snazan i nicim uzdrman
To je zvezda svakom izgubljenom lavezu,
cija je vrijdenost nepoznata ali ne i velicina..
Ljubav nije luda vremena
iako rujne usne i obrazi
pod zamah njegova srpa dolaze
Ljubav se ne menja s njegovim kratkim
casovima,nedeljama
ona traje vjecno
do samog sudnjeg casa.
ako je ovo greska,dokazi mi
ili ja nikada pisao nisam a covjek volio nije.... (iz nekog dela koje sam davno citala )


Spoj vernih duša smetnja ne remeti.
A ljubav nije ljubav, koju svako
S promenom menja, il ako se seti
Da s nevernikom izneveri lako.
O ne! Ljubav je tek kula svetilja
Što gleda bure i njihovu penu.
Ona je zvezda, visoka vodilja,
Za zalutalu barku. Ni vremenu
Igračka nije, mada su rumena
Lica pod njenom kosom koja čeka;
O, ljubav nema promena ni mena
Već traje dok je sveta i veka.
Ako ja grešim, moj stih je laž tada
I niko nije voleo nikada.

prevod Stevan Raičković

i dio iz djela ''Kako vam drago'' cin 5,scena 2

PHEBE
Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.
SILVIUS
It is to be all made of sighs and tears;
And so am I for Phebe.
It is to be all made of faith and service;
And so am I for Phebe.
It is to be all made of fantasy,
All made of passion and all made of wishes,
All adoration, duty, and observance,
All humbleness, all patience and impatience,
All purity, all trial, all observance;
And so am I for Phebe.


Dobri pastiru,reci ovom mladicu sta znaci voljeti.
To znaci biti stvoren od uzdaha i suza
To znaci biti stvoren od vjere i odanosti
To znaci biti stvoren od maste
Stvoren od strasti i zudnje
Od obozavanja,posvecenosti i paznje
Od poniznosti,strpljenja i nestrpljenja
Od cistoce,iskusenja i pokornosti...

[Meggy]

Ja ga vise volim u originalnoj verziji

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

[Meggy]

Sigh no more ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.

Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey nonny, nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no more
Of dumps so dull and heavy,
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leafy.

Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey nonny, nonny, nonny.

Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey nonny, nonny, nonny.



(from "Much Ado about Nothing")

[Meggy]

Juliet: Romeo? Romeo? Oh Romeo! What's here? A cup clos'd in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end - Ah churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after - I will kiss thy lips. Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them, to make me die with a restorative. ( kisses him ) Thy lips are warm.

Noise off

Juliet: Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief - O happy dagger. This is thy sheath, there rust and let me die. Ouch.

She dies


(from "Romeo and Juliet")

[Meggy]

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on: and yet, within a month-
Let me not think on't - Frailty, thy name is woman!
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears:-why she, even she-
O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer-married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules: within a month:
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not nor it cannot come to good:
But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.

__________________


To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.


(from "Hamlet")

[blueella]

Od najljepših bi' bica porod htjeli
Stog da ljepote ne svene nam ruža,
Da baštiniku mladom, jer nam zreli
Izmicu dani, na nju spomen pruža;
Al ti, što ljubiš sjajne svoje cèi,
Gorivom bica svog svoj hraniš plam,
Glad širec tu gdje obilje se toci,
Dušman si sebi, svirep sebi sam;
Ti što svjež ukras tom si svijetu sad,
Jedini glasnik proljeca i cvijeca,
U pupoljak svoj pokapaš plod mlad
I stog mu, škrce, škrtost sve je veca;
Smiluj se svijetu gladnom jer ce grobom
Pojest tvoj dug, i pojest ce ga tobom.