Sonnets

I have been quite absent in the last period, even though I really had some moments, in which I felt like writing. Now it's not one of these times, so tonight, as I will be trying to put some effort into writing my thesis, I just post a lovely sonnet by Shakespeare I recorded from high school. For the ones who read Bulgarian, please take a look at the translation too, it's by Valeri Petrov. I think he did an amazing job, some of his translations I really do find better than the original. Here you go:

Душа нещастна, ядко на плътта,
нападана от страсти денонощно,
защо гладуваш вътре в нищета,
а кичиш свойта къща тъй разкошно?
Защо се грижиш тъй за този дом,
нает за кратко и строен нездраво?
За себе си, душа, купувай, щом 
наследник му е червеят по право!
Тъпчи се във ущърб на тази плът,
с която храним ний смъртта всеядна,
дордето тъй съсухри я гладът,
че заже тя, Смъртта, да свърши гладна.
Когато смърт Смъртта ни сподели,
завинаги безсмъртна ще си ти. 

Sonnet 146
	Poor soul, the center of my sinful earth,
	[Thrall to ] these rebel pow'rs that thee array,
	Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
	Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
	Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
	Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
	Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
	Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?
	Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss,
	And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
	Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
	Within be fed, without be rich no more.
	So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men,
Сонет № 146