2
Hamlet (ACTO III.ESCENA 1) INGLÉS To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action. —Soft you now! The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember'd.

Hamlet

Embed Size (px)

DESCRIPTION

Ser o no ser

Citation preview

Page 1: Hamlet

Hamlet

(ACTO III.ESCENA 1)INGLÉS

To be, or not to be: that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause: there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life;

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office and the spurns

That patient merit of the unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscover'd country from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry,

And lose the name of action. —Soft you now!

The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remember'd.

Page 2: Hamlet

Hamlet (ACTO III.ESCENA 1)

ESPAÑOL

Ser o no ser, esa es la cuestión.

¿Qué es más noble para el alma

sufrir los golpes y las flechas de la injusta fortuna

o tomar las armas contra un mar de adversidades

y oponiéndose a ella, encontrar el fin? Morir, dormir...

nada más; y con un sueño poder decir que acabamos con el sufrimiento del corazón y los mil

choques

que por naturaleza son herencia de la carne... Es un final piadosamente deseable. Morir, dormir,

dormir... quizá soñar. Ahí está la dificultad.

Ya que en ese sueño de muerte, los sueños que pueden venir

cuando nos hayamos despojado de la confusión de esta vida mortal,

nos hace frenar el impulso. Ahí está el respeto

que hace de tan larga vida una calamidad.

Pues quien soportaría los latigazos y los insultos del tiempo,

la injusticia del opresor, el desprecio del orgulloso,

el dolor penetrante de un amor despreciado, la tardanza de la ley,

la insolencia del poder, y los insultos

que el mérito paciente recibe del indigno

cuando él mismo podría desquitarse de ellos

con un puñal. Quién cargaría con el castigo de

Quejarse y sudar bajo una vida cansada,

pero el temor a algo después de la muerte –

El país sin descubrir de cuya frontera

ningún viajero vuelve- aturde la voluntad

y nos hace soportar los males que sentimos

en vez de volar a otros que desconocemos.

La conciencia nos hace cobardes a todos.

Y así el nativo color de la resolución

30 enferma por el hechizo pálido del pensamiento

y empresas de gran importancia y peso

con lo que a esto se refiere, sus corrientes se desbordan

y pierden el nombre de acción.

Versión en la web: http://literatureinenglishunican.blogspot.com/2009/12/hamlet-to-be-or-not-to-be-

monologue.html