That poetry meme again
Sep. 20th, 2005 03:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vvvexationOnce more, it appears to be time to post random poems in our LJs and implore our friends to do the same. This time I'm going with Shakespeare. I've always liked the refreshing realism of this sonnet:
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:
If snow be white, why, then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red, and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Incidentally, where the hell did this rain come from?
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:
If snow be white, why, then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red, and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Incidentally, where the hell did this rain come from?
