the day of fertility celebration
Love and stuff to all of you on this lovely Valentine's Day.
And since I've already inundated you with Frost and Neruda, we'll go with an old favourite, one Mr William Shakespeare.
Sonnet 130
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 hair be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, 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.
♥
And since I've already inundated you with Frost and Neruda, we'll go with an old favourite, one Mr William Shakespeare.
Sonnet 130
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 hair be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, 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.
♥