Sonnet 025 - Suis Sideribus (Let those who are in favour with their stars)

gothic chant, syllabic adaptation, solo voice, echo, female vocals, harmony, acapella

August 11th, 2024suno

Lyrics

Sint | il | li | quos | fa | vet | su | is | si | de | ri | bus Pu | bli | co | ho | no | re | et | ti | tu | lis | su | per | bis | glo | ri | an | tur, Dum | e | go, | quem | for | tu | na | ta | li | um | tri | um | phi | pro | hi | bet, In | o | pi | na | lae | ti | ti | a | in | e | o | quod | max | i | me | ho | no | ro. Mag | ni | prin | ci | pum | di | lec | ti | su | as | pul | chras | fron | des | ex | pan | dunt Si | cut | ca | len | du | la | ad | o | cu | lum | so | lis, Et | in | se | ip | sis | su | per | bi | a | su | a | se | pe | li | tur, Nam | ad | fron | tem | mo | ri | un | tur | in | glo | ri | a | su | a. Do | lo | ro | sus | bel | la | tor | ob | pug | nam | fa | mo | sus, Post | mil | le | vic | to | ri | as | se | mel | su | pe | ra | tus, E | li | bro | ho | no | ris | pe | ni | tus | de | le | tus | est, Et | re | li | qua | om | ni | a | ob | li | ta | sunt | pro | qui | bus | la | bo | ra | vit: Tunc | fe | lix | e | go, | qui | a | mo | et | a | ma | tus | sum U | bi | ne | que | re | mo | ve | ri | nec | a | mo | ve | ri | pos | sum. Let those who are in favour with their stars Of public honour and proud titles boast, Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, Unlooked for joy in that I honour most. Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread But as the marigold at the sun's eye, And in themselves their pride lies buried, For at a frown they in their glory die. The painful warrior famoused for fight, After a thousand victories once foiled, Is from the book of honour razèd quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toiled: Then happy I, that love and am beloved Where I may not remove nor be removed. Sint illi quos favet suis sideribus Publico honore et titulis superbis gloriantur, Dum ego, quem fortuna talium triumphi prohibet, Inopina laetitia in eo quod maxime honoro. Magni principum dilecti suas pulchras frondes expandunt Sicut calendula ad oculum solis, Et in se ipsis superbia sua sepelitur, Nam ad frontem moriuntur in gloria sua. Dolorosus bellator ob pugnam famosus, Post mille victorias semel superatus, E libro honoris penitus deletus est, Et reliqua omnia oblita sunt pro quibus laboravit: Tunc felix ego, qui amo et amatus sum Ubi neque removeri nec amoveri possum.

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