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 hairs 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.
by William Shakespeare
I LOVE this sonnet.
Love it, love it, LOVE IT.
I googled "Sonnets by women", came across this instead. No turning back now my friends. NO TURNING BACK.
Excellent choice, and the answer to a Jeopardy question: Where did Sting get the title of his 1987 CD, 'Nothing Like the Sun'?
ReplyDeleteBut take another look. The comparisons in the first five couplets do make the woman sound unfavorable in comparison. Given the way it ends, though, do you think that: a)The narrator is brutally honest toward the object of his affection, or b)The narrator is proclaiming his love/r to be more genuinely beautiful than hackneyed poetic comparisons of eyes to limpet pools?
ReplyDeleteI was actually just talking to Sarah G. about this!
DeleteIts Shakespeare not only proclaiming his love like poets are apt to do, but also calling out the authors of other love poems for putting their woman up on par with goddesses and nature itself. Its him saying he loves this woman, but he loves her because she's a real person and he wouldn't have it any other way.