Sonnet 18
Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate;
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
–William Shakespeare
And the beauty does indeed ring down the centuries...
Language and literature...it really doesn't get much better than that, does it?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate;
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
–William Shakespeare
And the beauty does indeed ring down the centuries...
Language and literature...it really doesn't get much better than that, does it?
- Xamonas Chegwé
- Bouncer
- Posts: 50939
- Joined: Thu Feb 26, 2009 3:23 pm
- About me: I have prehensile eyebrows.
I speak 9 languages fluently, one of which other people can also speak.
When backed into a corner, I fit perfectly - having a right-angled arse. - Location: Nottingham UK
- Contact:
Re: Sonnet 18
It is? Not heard that interpretation before. Can you explain?Feck wrote:Especially as it's a dig at other poets .
A book is a version of the world. If you do not like it, ignore it; or offer your own version in return.
Salman Rushdie
You talk to God, you're religious. God talks to you, you're psychotic.
House MD
Who needs a meaning anyway, I'd settle anyday for a very fine view.
Sandy Denny
This is the wrong forum for bluffing
Paco
Yes, yes. But first I need to show you this venomous fish!
Calilasseia
I think we should do whatever Pawiz wants.
Twoflower
Bella squats momentarily then waddles on still peeing, like a horse
Millefleur
Salman Rushdie
You talk to God, you're religious. God talks to you, you're psychotic.
House MD
Who needs a meaning anyway, I'd settle anyday for a very fine view.
Sandy Denny
This is the wrong forum for bluffing

Paco
Yes, yes. But first I need to show you this venomous fish!
Calilasseia
I think we should do whatever Pawiz wants.
Twoflower
Bella squats momentarily then waddles on still peeing, like a horse
Millefleur
Re: Sonnet 18
He's saying that other poets write stupid lines that make no sense when describing women and that HIS poetry is eternal (even if she isn't ) .. Wish I could remember where I read it so I could link .




Give me the wine , I don't need the bread
- Bella Fortuna
- Sister Golden Hair
- Posts: 79685
- Joined: Wed Mar 04, 2009 11:45 am
- About me: Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require. - Location: Scotlifornia
- Contact:
Re: Sonnet 18
Well thanks for spoiling that bit of beauty for us. 

Sent from my Bollocksberry using Crapatalk.
Food, cooking, and disreputable nonsense: http://miscreantsdiner.blogspot.com/
Re: Sonnet 18
+1Bella Fortuna wrote:Well thanks for spoiling that bit of beauty for us.

Fucking atheists!

- Bella Fortuna
- Sister Golden Hair
- Posts: 79685
- Joined: Wed Mar 04, 2009 11:45 am
- About me: Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require. - Location: Scotlifornia
- Contact:
Re: Sonnet 18
I guess we're relegated to gems like these now...
Sent from my Bollocksberry using Crapatalk.
Food, cooking, and disreputable nonsense: http://miscreantsdiner.blogspot.com/
- hadespussercats
- I've come for your pants.
- Posts: 18586
- Joined: Tue Mar 09, 2010 12:27 am
- About me: Looks pretty good, coming out of the back of his neck like that.
- Location: Gotham
- Contact:
Re: Sonnet 18
I've always liked this one.
(I don't speak his language, but the translation is lovely.)
The Two Of You
Don’t run anymore. Quiet. How softly it rains
On the roofs of the city. How perfect
All things are. Now, for the two of you
Waking up in a royal bed by a garret window.
For a man and a woman. For one plant divided
Into masculine and feminine which longed for each other.
Yes this is my gift to you. Above ashes
On a bitter, bitter earth. Above the subterranean
Echo of clamorings and vows. So that now at dawn
You must be attentive: the tilt of a head,
A hand with a comb, two faces in a mirror
Are only forever once, even if unremembered,
So that you watch what is, though it fades away,
And are grateful every moment for your being.
Let that little park with greenish marble busts
In the pearl-gray light, under a summer drizzle,
Remain as it was when you opened the gate.
And the street of tall peeling porticos
Which this love of yours suddenly transformed.
--Czeslaw Milosz
(I don't speak his language, but the translation is lovely.)
The Two Of You
Don’t run anymore. Quiet. How softly it rains
On the roofs of the city. How perfect
All things are. Now, for the two of you
Waking up in a royal bed by a garret window.
For a man and a woman. For one plant divided
Into masculine and feminine which longed for each other.
Yes this is my gift to you. Above ashes
On a bitter, bitter earth. Above the subterranean
Echo of clamorings and vows. So that now at dawn
You must be attentive: the tilt of a head,
A hand with a comb, two faces in a mirror
Are only forever once, even if unremembered,
So that you watch what is, though it fades away,
And are grateful every moment for your being.
Let that little park with greenish marble busts
In the pearl-gray light, under a summer drizzle,
Remain as it was when you opened the gate.
And the street of tall peeling porticos
Which this love of yours suddenly transformed.
--Czeslaw Milosz
The green careening planet
spins blindly in the dark
so close to annihilation.
Listen. No one listens. Meow.
spins blindly in the dark
so close to annihilation.
Listen. No one listens. Meow.
- cowiz
- Shirley
- Posts: 16482
- Joined: Wed Feb 25, 2009 11:56 pm
- About me: Head up a camels arse
- Location: Colorado
- Contact:
Re: Sonnet 18
All poetry is shite, no exceptions
It's a piece of piss to be cowiz, but it's not cowiz to be a piece of piss. Or something like that.
- hadespussercats
- I've come for your pants.
- Posts: 18586
- Joined: Tue Mar 09, 2010 12:27 am
- About me: Looks pretty good, coming out of the back of his neck like that.
- Location: Gotham
- Contact:
Re: Sonnet 18
"Sir, I admit yourpawiz wrote:All poetry is shite, no exceptions
general rule,
That every poet is a fool;
But you yourself may serve to show it,
That every fool is not a poet."
— Alexander Pope
The green careening planet
spins blindly in the dark
so close to annihilation.
Listen. No one listens. Meow.
spins blindly in the dark
so close to annihilation.
Listen. No one listens. Meow.
- cowiz
- Shirley
- Posts: 16482
- Joined: Wed Feb 25, 2009 11:56 pm
- About me: Head up a camels arse
- Location: Colorado
- Contact:
Re: Sonnet 18
Exactly. Shite!hadespussercats wrote:"Sir, I admit yourpawiz wrote:All poetry is shite, no exceptions
general rule,
That every poet is a fool;
But you yourself may serve to show it,
That every fool is not a poet."
— Alexander Pope
It's a piece of piss to be cowiz, but it's not cowiz to be a piece of piss. Or something like that.
Re: Sonnet 18
I prefer sonnet 17 ..
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
in which there is no I or you
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand
so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
in which there is no I or you
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand
so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close.
no fences
- hadespussercats
- I've come for your pants.
- Posts: 18586
- Joined: Tue Mar 09, 2010 12:27 am
- About me: Looks pretty good, coming out of the back of his neck like that.
- Location: Gotham
- Contact:
Re: Sonnet 18
I agree with you, Charlou. Lovely. And strangely modern.
The green careening planet
spins blindly in the dark
so close to annihilation.
Listen. No one listens. Meow.
spins blindly in the dark
so close to annihilation.
Listen. No one listens. Meow.
Re: Sonnet 18
Words like dark chocolate.charlou wrote:I prefer sonnet 17 ..
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
in which there is no I or you
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand
so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close.
Re: Sonnet 18
Nice description, dev.
Last edited by charlou* on Sun Apr 17, 2011 2:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
no fences
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests