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 be dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses demask'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.
I love this sonnet. Shakespeare takes a completely different approach than the "idealized woman/lover" theme that most poets of his day did. Even though this sonnet does not come off as very...nice (for a lack of a better word now), I think it is the most genuine for he writes down how she really is, not an idealized form of her. By the way, I love the picture you put up...it's lovely! ;-)
ReplyDeleteDefinitely the whole reason why I love this sonnet as well, although if my husband were to dedicate it to me, I may have to break his fingers :)
ReplyDeleteI totally agree...if my fiance dedicated that poem to me, I'd be like, "First of all, I don't have 'black wires growing on my head' and secondly, couldn't you find somethiing nicer?!"
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