Samuel Waddington, comp. The Sonnets of Europe. 1888.
PrefaceT
Many of the sonnets, translations of which are included in this volume, were composed more than three hundred years before Milton wrote his Paradise Lost—some of them more than two hundred years before the birth of Shakespeare—yet they are, for the most part, as fresh as flowers newly gathered, and possessed of a grace and delicate fragrance that have outlived the passing of so many centuries. But while a large number of the original sonnets are of this ancient date, the greater portion of the translations, as, for instance, those by Mr. Aubertin, Mr. John Addington Symonds, and Mr. Andrew Lang, have been written during recent years, and many of them are here published for the first time. Of those previously unpublished, mention may be made of Mr. Gosse’s rendering of the Swedish and Dutch sonnets; Mr. William Michael Rossetti’s translations of sonnets by Salvator Rosa and his father, Gabriele Rossetti; Mr. Thomas Ashe’s translations from the French; Mr. Arthur Platt’s from Louise Labé, Calderon, and Lope de Vega; Mrs. Edmond’s from the modern Greek poets; those by Dr. Richard Garnett from the Portuguese; by Mr. Cosmo Monkhouse from Ronsard and Baudelaire; by the Baroness von Gilsa from Tasso and Marini; and the very able rendering of Boccage’s fine sonnet “On Nelson,” by Mr. J. J. Aubertin, to which we would call special attention.
The translation of a sonnet from one language into another in the legitimate, or Italian, sonnet-form is attended with some difficulty; and it is to this difficulty of translation that we are probably indebted for what is now known as the English, or Shakespearian, form of the sonnet. It was first used by the Earl of Surrey, who translated several of Petrarch’s sonnets, and also composed a few original poems, in this form, which is much easier for the purposes of translation than that in which the Italian poets wrote. The following is an example of the latter, and is, moreover, the oldest sonnet extant in any language, it having been written by Piero delle Vigne about the year 1220
It will be seen that the rhymes in the octave of the above are alternate, and a large number of the early Italian or Petrarchan sonnets follow this arrangement of the rhymes. At page 26 of this selection will be found a translation of one of Petrarch’s sonnets by Surrey in which the rhymes are alternate, but the translator has apparently been compelled to adopt fresh rhymes in the second quatrain in order to be able to more closely follow the sense of the original poem. Now this use of additional rhymes in the second quatrain constitutes the main difference between the Italian and the Shakespearian form of the sonnet, for if the rhymes were the same as those used in the first quatrain, the sonnet would then be a legitimate Italian sonnet. As regards the use of the final couplet, it should be mentioned that although rare, it is to be found in the early Italian sonnets, and a few of those by Petrarch have this termination. The majority of modern critics agree that the final couplet detracts from the beauty of the composition, but they also agree that the following (all of which close with a final couplet) are amongst the best of our English sonnets:—Blanco White’s “Night and Death,” Keats’s “Last Sonnet,” Michael Drayton’s “Last Chance,” Sir Philip Sidney’s “With how sad steps, O moon—,” Wordsworth’s “Sonnet on the Sonnet,” Mrs. Fanny Kemble’s “Art thou already weary of the way,” Leigh Hunt’s “Nile,” Tennyson-Turner’s “Time and Twilight,” Hartley Coleridge’s “Long time a child, and still a child, when years—,” Cowper’s “To Mary Unwin,” Donne’s “To Death,” Rossetti’s “Match with the Moon,” Matthew Arnold’s Sonnet on “Shakespeare,” etc.
But to return to the subject of this volume, the domain of translation, it may be observed, extends from the most bald and literal substitution of word for word, and line for line, on the one hand, to mere paraphrase, interpretation, or imitation, on the other,—and Lord Woodhouselee, in his interesting Essay on the Principles of Translation, published at the close of the last century, points out that neither of these extremes can be deemed satisfactory. It is, however, to D. G. Rossetti that we are indebted for the most intelligent and comprehensive criticism on this subject. “The life-blood,” he writes, “of rhythmical translation is this commandment,—that a good poem shall not be turned into a bad one. The only true motive for putting poetry into a fresh language must be to endow a fresh nation, as far as possible, with one more possession of beauty. Poetry not being an exact science, literality of rendering is altogether secondary to this chief law. I say literality,—not fidelity, which is by no means the same thing. When literality can be combined with what is thus the primary condition of success, the translator is fortunate, and must strive his utmost to unite them; when such object can only be attained by paraphrase, that is the only path.”
A good poem shall not be turned into a bad one. How far the compositions in the present volume comply with this great commandment of rhythmical translation must be left to the reader to determine, but the editor has endeavoured, however unsuccessfully, to adopt it as his [Greek] in making this selection. Bramston, the worthy and witty Vicar of Starting, wrote more than a century ago—
It only remains for me to thank Mr. J. A. Symonds, Mr. Edmund Gosse, Dr. Garnett, and others, for much valuable assistance generously accorded,—as well as those of holders of copyright who have given me permission to include various sonnets in this volume.
November 1886.