A bit of a late post but wanted to acknowledge the birth of William Shakespeare in 1564 (April 23). Not to be so literal, but the gusty winds today reminded me of this sonnet by WS--what's your favorite?
PS--my friend Vern wrote a contemporary song based on this one called "Number 18"--I'll see if he has it recorded somewhere; definitely be worth a listen . . .
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 owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
* * * * *
*sorry been away from the blog for a couple days; I'll have things back up to speed shortly. Thanks again for stopping by--
PS--my friend Vern wrote a contemporary song based on this one called "Number 18"--I'll see if he has it recorded somewhere; definitely be worth a listen . . .
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 owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
* * * * *
*sorry been away from the blog for a couple days; I'll have things back up to speed shortly. Thanks again for stopping by--
My favorite of Shakespeare's sonnets is a pretty conventional choice, but sometimes convention cooperates with insight.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/174357
thanks, Matt, for stopping by--I'll include your choice here:
ReplyDeleteSonnet XXIX: When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
By William Shakespeare
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.