Shakespeare
Aristide Demetriade in Hamlet
o creatie a carei faima a trecut fruntariile tarii
the fame of Demetriade's creation in Hamlet passed Romania's frontiers
o creatie a carei faima a trecut fruntariile tarii
the fame of Demetriade's creation in Hamlet passed Romania's frontiers
I have this book, the History of Bucharest National Theater, an edition from 1939, and I keep it as a beloved treasure for my soul. The book belonged to my uncle,whose name was also Pierre. He passed away in 1944, victim of a robbery made by military from the Soviet occupation troupes. I was born in 1945, and my mother gave me his name, to appease the tragedy that had struck our family.
On the cover of this book it is a photo from 1916: Aristide Demetriade, one of the greatest artists in the history of Bucharest National Theater, playing Hamlet, a creation whose fame has passed Romania's frontiers. It was my fist encounter with the name of Shakespeare.
I didn't have, so far, the audacity to write on this blog about Shakespeare. There are titans that overwhelm any attempt to comment. Only once I brought a small poem by Eminescu, meditating his love for the English bard. Two titans in a dialog throughout the centuries:
Shakespeare, adesea te gândesc cu jale,
Prieten bun al sufletului meu,
Ecoul viu al versurilor tale
Îmi sare-n gând, şi le repet mereu.
De-aş fi trăit când tu trăiai pe lume,
Te-aş fi iubit atât cât te iubesc?
Căci tot ce simt - tot ție-ți multumesc,
Tu mi-ai deschis a ochilor lumină,
M-ai invățat ca lumea s-o citesc.
Prieten bun al sufletului meu,
Ecoul viu al versurilor tale
Îmi sare-n gând, şi le repet mereu.
De-aş fi trăit când tu trăiai pe lume,
Te-aş fi iubit atât cât te iubesc?
Căci tot ce simt - tot ție-ți multumesc,
Tu mi-ai deschis a ochilor lumină,
M-ai invățat ca lumea s-o citesc.
It's an impiety for me to adventure and give a rendering of these lines in another language, but, also, everybody should taste a bit of their beauty, and I will dare:
Shakespeare, I often build you in my mind with sorrow,
Good friend of my soul,
The living echo of your lines
Is jumping in my thought, and I repeat them always.
Were I to live when you were living on this world,
Would I have loved you as much as I now love you?
For all I feel - it's thanks to you,
You are the one to open my eyes' light
And teach me read this universe.
Good friend of my soul,
The living echo of your lines
Is jumping in my thought, and I repeat them always.
Were I to live when you were living on this world,
Would I have loved you as much as I now love you?
For all I feel - it's thanks to you,
You are the one to open my eyes' light
And teach me read this universe.
I found this video on youTube, you'll consider it maybe a bit crazy, but it speaks also about someone's unconditional love for the English bard. Are Shakespeare's plays encoded within a number with infinite digits? Has the bard as measure the endless of eternity?
- The Happy Few
- Goethe und Schiller (the monument of Shakespeare in Weimar)
- Gândindu-l pe Shakespeare: Eminesciene
- There Is No Third
- Did They Meet in Valladolid?
(A Life in Books)
Labels: Eminescu, Shakespeare
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