Ünnepekre, ünnep utánra vidítsuk magunkat Sir Philip Sidney I. szonettjének magyarításával. Ha valaki ismer "hivatalos" magyar fordítást, kérem, ossza meg velünk.
Hivatalosat eddig nem találtunk, de a szokott asztaltársaság eddig három amatőr megoldást prezentált: az első szerzője mB, a másodiké Lobra, a harmadiké wormblad.
Loving in truth, and fain my love in verse to show,
That thee dear She might take some pleasure of my pain:
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain.
I sought fit words, to paint the blakest face of woe,
Studying invention fine, her wits to entertain,
Or turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful shower upon my sunburnt brain.
But words came halting out, wanting Invention's stay,
Invention, Nature's child, fled stepdame Study's blows;
And others' feet still seem'd but strangers in my way;
Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my trouand pen, beating myself for spite,
"Fool", said my Muse to me, "look in thy heart and write!"
