William Shakespeare "Sonnet 147" testo

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Sonnet 147

My love is as a fever, longing stillFor that which longer nurseth the disease,Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,Th’uncertain sickly appetite to please.

My reason, the physician to my love,Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,Hath left me, and I, desperate, now approveDesire is death, which physic did except.

Past cure I am, now reason is past care,And frantic mad with evermore unrest;My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,At random from the truth vainly expressed:

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

Sipi CXLVII

Ko hoku 'ofa 'oku hange ha mofi, kei holi pe iaKi ai 'oku kei tauhi fuoloa e mahakiFafanga ia ki ai 'oku kei tolonga 'a e pukeKo ho'o fiekaia ta'elelei ke fakafiefia'i.

Ko hoku 'uhi, ko e faito'o ki hoku 'ofaKu 'ite'ita he 'ikai na'a ne tauhi ma'u pe 'a hono folofolo'i akauNa'a ke li'aki au, pea ko au, 'i ho'oku 'ohonoa, ku loto ki aiKo e mate 'a e holi, 'a ia na'e manako e 'atamai.

Ku 'oji au 'i he faito'o na, pea ko e 'uhinga pe 'oku 'oji 'a 'ene tokangaPea ilifia lahi mo e ta'emalolo 'i mu'a 'i mu'aKo hoku fakakau mo hoku malanga 'o hange ha fahaKo ia 'oku fakakehekehe mei he mo'oni 'oku fakahaa fakatoma.

He 'oku ou fuakava kia te koe 'oku hoihoifua, mo hoku manatu 'ia koe 'oku ngingilaKo koe 'oku moana 'o hange ko Pulotu, 'o 'uli'uli 'o hange ko e po'uli.

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