#sonnet 78

[shakespeare-will-world]

Николай Обабков читает 78 сонет В. Шекспира

[shakespeare-will-world]

[shakespeare-will-world]

АНОНС  Шекспир 78 сонет

Перевод Маршака

[shakespeare-will-world]

Сонет 78. Шекспир на русском. Читает Николай Обабков -  “Тебя я музой называл своею”

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 78 by William Shakespeare (read by Eli Wallach)

So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse, And found such fair assistance in my verse As every alien pen hath got my use And under thee their poesy disperse.

Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing And heavy ignorance aloft to fly, Have added feathers to the learned's wing And given grace a double majesty.

Yet be most proud of that which I compile, Whose influence is thine, and born of thee: In others' works thou dost but mend the style, And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;

  But thou art all my art, and dost advance   As high as learning, my rude ignorance.

Source: The Complete Shakespeare Sonnets

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 78 by William Shakespeare (read by Sir Patrick Stewart)

So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse, And found such fair assistance in my verse As every alien pen hath got my use And under thee their poesy disperse.

Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing And heavy ignorance aloft to fly, Have added feathers to the learned's wing And given grace a double majesty.

Yet be most proud of that which I compile, Whose influence is thine, and born of thee: In others' works thou dost but mend the style, And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;

  But thou art all my art, and dost advance   As high as learning, my rude ignorance.

[theshakespearesonnets]

Sonnet 78: So Oft Have I Invoked Thee For My Muse

So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse, And found such fair assistance in my verse As every alien pen hath got my use And under thee their poesy disperse. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing And heavy ignorance aloft to fly, Have added feathers to the learned’s wing And given grace a double majesty. Yet be most proud of that which I compile, Whose influence is thine, and born of thee: In others’ works thou dost but mend the style, And arts with thy sweet graces graced be; But thou art all my art, and dost advance As high as learning my rude ignorance.

Translation to modern English

I’ve invoked you as my muse so many times, and found my poetry to be so inspired by you that every other author imitates my style and publishes his poetry in your name. Your eyes, that inspire the dumb to sing, reaching the highest notes, raise the ignorant to soar in intelligence, inspire the educated to fly even higher, have enhanced the graceful’s grace. Even so, you should be most proud of my my poetry because it’s done directly under your influence and inspired by you. With the poetry of the others you merely improve their style, adding lustre to already lustrous verse. But your inspiration is everything to me and raises my great ignorance to high learning.

[quothshakespeare-blog]

Sonnet 78

So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse, And found such fair assistance in my verse As every alien pen hath got my use And under thee their poesy disperse. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing And heavy ignorance aloft to fly, Have added feathers to the learned's wing And given grace a double majesty. Yet be most proud of that which I compile, Whose influence is thine, and born of thee: In others' works thou dost but mend the style, And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;   But thou art all my art, and dost advance   As high as learning, my rude ignorance.