Sonnet 60: Like As The Waves Make Towards The Pebbled Shore Poem by William Shakespeare

Dear Will your verse has stood the years in hope, despite times hand Although alas no nearer are we now, than thou, that time we understand

اجتهادِي الشّـعـرِيّ في مَجالِ ترجمةِ الـشّـعْـرِ بالشّـعْـرِ لــ (السُّونيتة / الغنائية رقم 60) Sonnet NO.60 للشاعـر الإنجليزيّ العبقريّ : وِيـلـيَـم شيكـسـبـيـر William Shakespeare (1582-1616) _______________________________ _______________________________ 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 ↓ كـرَكْـضِ الـمَـوْجِ إلـى شَــوَاطِـىءٍ حَـصبَـاءَ أيـامُ عُمرِنا عَـادِيَـاتٌ عَــدْوَ مُـتـعَـجِّــلٍ فـناءَ ◘ فـهَـذِيْ مَـوْجَـةٌ تـعْــقُــبُ أُخـتـهَـا الـرَّعْــنَـاءَ تكُـدُّ سَـعْـيَـاً كـمَـنْ فِـي سَـبْـقٍ يَـرُومُ انـتهَـاءَ _____________________________ _____________________________ Nativity, once in the main of light Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight And Time, that gave, doth now his gift confound ↓ يبزُغُ الوليدُ بُـذُوغَ الشمْسِ فِي الأُفـقِ حتى إذا ما جَاوَزَ الصِّـبَا مُتـوَّجَـاً عَـلى عَـرْشِ الشبابِ ◘ يَعْدُو عَليهِ كُسُوفُ الهَرَمِ مَاحِـقِ الألَـقِ وهَكَذا الدهْرُ مُذهِلٌ كُلمَا دَارَتْ رَحَاهُ بيْن مَنْحٍ واستلابِ _____________________________ _____________________________ 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 ↓ فالـدَّهْـرُ سَـلَّابٌ لِـسَــنَـا أَعْمَـارِنا إِزْمِـيْـلُـهُ دائِـمُ الحَـفْـرِ والتشـوِيه ِلِـجَـبْـهَـاتِ الجَمَالِ ◘ نَهُـوْمٌ ينـهَـبُ أَنـدَرَ مَا بأَنضَـرِنا يجُـذُّ بمنجَلِ المَـنـايَا ، فمَا نجَتْ مِنهُ أَعْناقُ الرِّجَالِ _____________________________ _____________________________ And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand ↓ لكِـنَّ شِعْـرِي عَصِـيٌّ علَى الـبِـلَـى، وفـي وَجْـهِ الزمانِ سَــوْفَ يَصْمُـدُ ◘ وإنْ تـكُ يَـدُ الزَّمَـانِ غَشُومَةً تبـطِشُ فلسوْفَ يبقَى لِـمَـآثرِك مَدَّاحاً يُـعَـدِّدُ ◘◘ ترجَمَة بليْغ حمْدي ◘◘

in ITALIAN: Così come le onde si dirigono versa la spiaggia piena di ciottoli, i nostri minuti si affrettano verso la fine, ogni minuto prende il posto di quello che lo precedeva, e tutti inesorabilmente avanzano. La nascita, una volta nel regno della luce, striscia verso la maturità, e contro il suo splendore lottano le eclissi maligne, ed il tempo si riprende i doni che generosamente aveva dato. Il tempo rovina la gioventù e scava le rughe sul volto della bellezza, e niente di ciò che vive in natura e' risparmiato dalla sua falce. Ma nonostante la sua crudeltà, il mio verso, che ti esalta, sopravviverà.

.......an excellent write...I especially like the simile, Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end ★

Awesome I like this poem, check mine out

I love this poem. It is so beautiful and sincere. And the message is so pure. This is what every man and woman should work on - developeing inner beauty. Women, inner beauty is what will count to a husband. Men, true sencerity and sensativity is what will make a relationship stick. This is the grow-old-together ideal that everyone wishes for. And this poem could be for friendships too, not just romance and marraige.