5.7.10

«Una candida cerva...».

Whoso list a hunt, I know where is a hind,
But as for me, alas, I may no more:
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore.
I am of them that farthest cometh behind.

Yet may I by no means my wearied mind
Draw from the Deer: but as she fleeth afore,
Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,
Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.

Who list her hunt I put him out of doubt,
As well as I may spend his time in vain:
And, graven with Diamonds, in letters plain

There is written her fair neck round about:
«Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,
And wild for to hold though I seem tame».

(Stephen Greenblatt: Renaissance Self-Fashioning from More to Shakespeare. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2005, p. 145 [Sir Thomas Wyatt]. Modifico ligeramente tipografía y puntuación. Véase además el magnífico comentario de texto de Greenblatt, en las pp. 146ss. El soneto, evidentemente, traduce el CXC de Petrarca [Cancionero. Madrid: Cátedra, 1999, p. 610]. Wyatt también traduce el soneto CXXXIV [«Pace non trovo...», ibíd, p. 490] en su «I find no peace...»; véase Jonathan Bate: Soul of the Age: a Biography of the Mind of William Shakespeare. New York: Random House, 2009 [Kindle edition].)