Jonathan ROBIN

(22 September / London)

Sonnet LX - Variations In Imitation - after William Shakespeare


See below W S Sonnet LX for English and French variations

Sonnet LX

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 crown’d,
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 rareities 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.

William SHAKESPEARE shak1_0008_shak1_0000 PST_DZX
________________________


So nnet LX Imitation - Par Vagues

Par vagues, s’approchant à la rive pierreuse,
Nos instants précieux écument leur destin,
Chacun son précédent remplaçant en chemin,
Le tout se bousculant - avancée périlleuse.
Le Temps notre jeunesse avale et l’âme heureuse,
Avance, et, mûrissant, se voit sacrée: sa main
Dispute nos chansons, gloires d’antan, - déclin
Que le faucheur étale, éclipse malheureuse.
Le Temps reprend ses dons, de profonds sillons creuse,
Des affronts forts profonds au front jadis si saint,
En dévorant les traces de notre grâce éteinte,
Aucun ne faisant face à sa fauche rieuse!
Pourtant malgré le Temps, sa main sans pitié,
Ces lignes attendent un jour coulant de vérité.

15 December 1991 revised 2005 robi3_0508_shak1_0008 PFT_DZX see robi3_0654
Translation William SHAKESPEARE – Sonnet LX for previous version see below

__________________

Sonnet LX

Ainsi qu’aux vagues visant la rive pierreuse,
Nos instants précieux se hâtent vers leur destin,
Chacun son précedent remplaçant en chemin,
Le tout se bousculant - avancée perilleuse.
Le temps notre jeunesse avale et l’âme heureuse,
Avance, et, mûrissant, se voit sacrée: sa main
Dispute les chansons, les gloires d’antan; - déclin
Que le faucheur étale, éclipse malheureuse.
Le Temps reprend ses dons, de profonds sillons creuse,
Des indentations au front qui fut si saint,
En dévorant les graces où la Nature s’éteint.
Qui peut faire face à sa fauche rieuse?
Pourtant malgré le Temps, sa main sans pitié,
Ces lignes attendent un jour coulant de verité.

15 December 1991

________________________
Sonnet LX Imitation


En courant tels des flots vers la plage pierreuse,
nos instants en avant roulent vers leur destin,
chacun son précédent remplaçant en chemin,
le tout se bousculant - par vagues périlleuses.
Le Temps vite avale notre jeunesse heureuse,
avance, et, mûrissant, se voit sacrée: sa main
dispute les chansons, la gloire, le déclin
que le faucheur étale, éclipse malheureuse.
Le Temps reprend ses dons, de subtils sillons creuse, -
des affronts forts profonds au front jadis si saint,
en se gavant de tout, et la Nature s’éteinte. -
qui peut s'opposer à cette fauche rieuse?
Pourtant malgré le Temps, sa main sans pitié,
ces lignes guettent un jour coulant de vérité.



15 December 1992 robi3_0654_shak1_0008 PFT_DZX see robi3_0508
Translation William SHAKESPEARE – Sonnet LX

_________________________

Sonnet LX In Imitation

Fate’s fretful oars dip fitfully once more,
weary Charon, charged with souls, is found
awaiting some predestined Thermidor
that Death to death leads, Judgement Book disbound.
Emboldened Youth flares like a meteor
to adulthood - successes then abound -
till age eclipses strength - strength sure before,
grave Time, which gave, retrieves, leaves muddy mound
as overconfidence meets fatal flaw.
Wrinkles wreak havoc. Beauty is discrowned.
Truth, firm today, tomorrow may restore
to chaos whence it came - flame Lethe drowned.
Yet one alone amidst the sands of time
stands out, flouts doubt, to feed eternal rhyme.

16 December 1991 revised 1995 and 20081031
William SHAKESPEARE Sonnet LX robi3_0510_shak1_0008 PSX_DLZ
For previous version see below


____________________

Sonn et LX In Imitation

The fretful oars dip fitfully once more,
as Charon, charged with souls, is weary found
awaiting some predestined Thermidor
which Death to death will lead deep underground.
Emboldened Youth flares like a meteor
to adulthood - successes then abound -
till age eclipses strength, - strength sure before,
grave Time, which gave, retrieves, would gift confound,
in overconfidence finds fatal flaw.
Wrinkles wreak havoc, Beauty is discrowned.
Truth, firm today, tomorrow shall restore
to chaos whence it came, - flame Lethe drowned.
Yet she alone amidst the sands of time
stands out, flouts doubt, to feed eternal rhyme.

16 December 1991 revised 1995
William SHAKESPEARE Sonnet LX robi3_0510_shak1_0008 PSX_DLZ
__________________


Sonnet LX Swift Sped

Swift sped, fled minutes hasten to dead end,
As surging waves swim over pebbled shore,
None out of sequence, all do all befriend,
Drain tide’s ride seeking those that flowed before.
Rising star, once centre of attraction,
Is soon mature, boom ripe to dire doom rots -
Nor can it fight against its strength's subtraction,
Escrow dreams redeemed, lot drawn, eyes dots.
Vain prove's youth's creams when Time with Truth plays games
Adding care’s parallels to beauty's brow,
It nothing spares, pares all, bars specious claims,
Lets nothing stand - no tithe its scythe won't mow.
Long still thy worth Time's inroads will withstand,
And None Thy birth forget, despite dread hand.


October 20 1992 slightly revised 21 October 2009 see robi3_0508 robi3_0654
William SHAKESPEARE Sonnet LX

___________________________

Sonnet LX Time Takes Back Gifts

Must, crushed, dust minutes hustle to [c]rust ends
as wake waves break on Charon’s jetsam shore?
In sequent bustle, current past befriends
beachcombing foam mocks flotsam sprayed before.
Life’s wayward goal, pole centre of attraction,
soon disappoints, ripe rots, tripe fast forgot,
though weak wish leak plugged, stopping strength's subtraction.
Time takes back gifts, tease cross lack, as eyes dot.
Dreams mould to must, stay weighs, repay plays games,
wretch sketch bars parallel on beauty's brow,
spares naught, pares fraught despairs’ false halt fault [cl]aims,
rakes in lost chips - no cost tithe scythe can cow.
Miraculous, Earth’s star stills tocsin’s hand,
rhymed worth alone Time's toxins will withstand.

24 July 2004 revised 21 October 2009 robi3_1045_shak1_0008 PSX_DZX
William SHAKESPEARE Sonnet LX

___________________

Sonnet LX – Sang to M.C.


So must flower hours bloom until doom’s tomb [bl]end,
As waves which break upon brake pebbled shore,
None out of sequence, all must all befriend,
Go [st]ride the tide, 'side those that flowed before.
Thus rising stars, once centre of attraction,
Old soon mature, once ripe begin to rot,
Misled who'd try to strive against subtraction, -
A gift Time swift redeems, each ‘I’ must dot,
Misled are those who would illusions nourish
Advancing parallels in beauty's brow
Untimely etched, may still be mocked by flourish,
Death grins at boasts when vainest peacocks crow.
Enriched is mode Time's inroads can withstand,
Comfort draw from rhymes which still Fate's hand.


4 July 2008 robi3_1813_shak1_0008 PSX_DZX
William SHAKESPEARE Sonnet LX

Maude Sonnet Cycle n.b. No separate entry included in robi3_1813

Submitted: Friday, October 31, 2008
Edited: Thursday, October 22, 2009

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