Chaque jour je n'oublie pas Anne-Sophie et ses compagnes d'infortune

145 en 2010 ; 122 en 2011 ; 148 en 2012 ; 121 en 2013 ; 118 en 2014 ; 122 en 2015, combien en 2016 ?

(clic sur le lien pour comprendre ... un peu)

jeudi 9 avril 2015

Monologue of Hamlet, de William Shakespeare

Le défi n°142 des CROQUEURS DE MOTS, avec lénaïg, nous plonge dans "une étrange atmosphère" ou (et?) "un monde à l'envers". 

Pas de panique ! Ceux qui, comme moi, ne maîtrisent pas l'anglais ! J'ai mis en ligne la traduction de Victor Hugo dans l'article suivant

Monologue of Hamlet (English)

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether it's nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; 
No more; and, by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks 
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub; 
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come 
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, 
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, 
The pangs of dispriz’d love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, 
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death, 
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; 
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d.
William Shakespeare, 1599 - 1601
Eugène Delacroix, Hamlet et Horatio au cimetière

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