Encore un beau dimanche avec Will… <\/p>\n
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When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes William Shakespeare (1564-1616)<\/span> <\/p>\n Traduction en anglais moderne<\/em><\/strong> When my luck has failed and no-one gives me any sympathy, I sit all alone and cry about being an outcast, and bother the deaf ears of heaven with my useless cries; and examine myself and curse my fate, wishing that I was like someone with good prospects; or that I looked like another, or had friends like yet another, coveting this man’s skill, and that man’s range – totally dissatisfied with the things I usually enjoy. Yet, as I’m thinking these thoughts, almost believing myself despicable, I think of you by chance and then my soul, like the lark rising from the glum earth at daybreak, sings hymns at heaven’s gate. Because when I remember your sweet love, the thought brings such wealth that I’d then refuse to change places with kings.<\/span><\/span> <\/p>\n Traduction en fran\u00e7ais<\/strong> libre et approximative par ma toujours aussi indigne personne pour celles et ceux qui auraient quelque ennui avec la langue de Will. Juste pour la compr\u00e9hension…<\/em><\/span> <\/p>\n Quand abandonn\u00e9 de la fortune et des hommes, je pleure solitaire mon \u00e9tat de paria, et importune de mes cris inutiles le ciel sourd \u00e0 mes plaintes, je me regarde et maudis mon destin, souhaitant \u00eatre un autre, plus riche d’espoir, avoir son allure, avoir des amis comme lui, d\u00e9sirant les savoir-faire de cet homme et son envergure, ce qui me plait le plus me satisfaisant le moins, Encore plong\u00e9 dans ces pens\u00e9es, me croyant presque m\u00e9prisable, je pense \u00e0 toi par chance et mon esprit, comme l’alouette \u00e0 l’aube s’\u00e9l\u00e8ve de la terre triste, chante alors des hymnes aux portes du ciel. Car quand je me souviens de ton doux amour, cette pens\u00e9e m’apporte de telles richesses que je refuserai d’\u00e9changer ma place avec des rois.<\/span> <\/p>\n Et enfin lecture de ce merveilleux sonnet par The “chocolate voice”, Matthew MacFadyen : enjoy !<\/span> <\/p>\n
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven 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 possessed,
Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts my self 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 remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.<\/em><\/span> <\/p>\n
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