I read his first 4 sonnets, and saw similar themes - love. I noticed that they all kind of "flow" from one to other, as they are clearly about the same thing. However, if i'm going to analyze them for themes, how are they different? I've been racking my brain, and i can't figure it out!
It would be a good idea to post the poems you are refering to if you would like others to help.
~
"It is not that I am mad; it is only that my head is different from yours.”
~
O...k here they are. I couldn't find them all online, so i had to type them out here...this may be long (Sorry)
Sonnet I:
there are animals in the world of so stalwart
a sight it can stand even the sun;
others, because the great light hurts them,
come out only toward evening;
and others, with a mad desire that hopes
perhaps to rejoice in fire, because it shines,
experience the other power, the one that burns.
alas, and my place is in the last throng,
for i am not strong enough to look on the light
of this lady, and i don't know how to make shields
or dark places or late hours
so with tearful and weak eyes
my fate leads me to see her;
and i know well that i go after what burns me.
Sonnet 2:
love and i, as full of wonder
as whoever saw an incredible thing,
look at her who, when she speaks or laughs,
only to herself resembles and no other.
from the serene beauty of her tranquil brow
my two trusted stars shine so
that there is no other light to kindle and to guide
whoever is intent on lofty love.
what a marvel it is, when on the grass
flower-like she sits, or yet when she presses
a green tuft with her white breast!
how sweet it is to see her in the spring
walking alone together with her thoughts,
weaving a garland for her waxy gleaming gold!
Sonnet 3:
Happy, blissful flowers, and well-born grass,
That my pensive Lady is wont to tread upon;
Gentle incline that to her sweet words listen
And of her lovely foot retain some trace,
Smooth saplings, and green and tender leaves,
Darling pale violets;
Shadowy woods where plays the sun
That makes you with its rays tall and superb;
O sweet countryside, o pure stream,
That bathe her lovely face and her clear eyes,
And quality take from her live light;
How I envy you your honest dear acts!
There will be no rock in you by now that from habit
Learns not with my flame to burn.
Sonnet IV:
I sang; now i weep, and take no less sweetness
From weeping, than from song i took;
for my senses, though cherishing height,
Are intent on the cause, not on th effect.
Hence mildness and harshness,
And fierce acts, and humble and courteous ones
I bear equally; now am i heavy-burdened,
nor do chafts of disdain my armor pierce.
Let love, my Lady, the world and my fortune
Keep then toward me their usual style;
For i don't think I'll ever be anything but happy.
Whether i live or die or languish, there is
No serener state than mine under the moon;
So sweet is of my bitterness the root
Last edited by student007; 05-14-2005 at 08:50 PM.
Hello, student007, welcome to the forum.
As you search the theme of each of these lovely sonnets, of which Petrarch developed his own style, different from other sonnet writers, like William Shakespeare and John Donne, themes tend to have a certain brief summary, formed out of the moral and/or message that the poet conveys; so my responses will seem short.
Please realize the subjectivity in the perception of art, including poetry and literature, and these merely subsist as my own interpretation.
Just out of curiosity, by the way, who translated these sonnets from the Italian?
By now, we probably all know the popular phrase, "love hurts," and, indeed, it can. In this romantic sonnet, Petrarch admits his willingness to withstand any pain, including the inherent, but not initial, pain involved in love itself. In essence: sacrifice seems a necessity for love.there are animals in the world of so stalwart
a sight it can stand even the sun;
others, because the great light hurts them,
come out only toward evening;
and others, with a mad desire that hopes
perhaps to rejoice in fire, because it shines,
experience the other power, the one that burns.
alas, and my place is in the last throng,
for i am not strong enough to look on the light
of this lady, and i don't know how to make shields
or dark places or late hours
so with tearful and weak eyes
my fate leads me to see her;
and i know well that i go after what burns me.
Through the poet's eyes, there exists no resemblance between "her" unique and profound beauty, except the nature that created "her," hence the comparisons of "her" physical traits, and the surrounding nature of spring (when everything blooms).love and i, as full of wonder
as whoever saw an incredible thing,
look at her who, when she speaks or laughs,
only to herself resembles and no other.
from the serene beauty of her tranquil brow
my two trusted stars shine so
that there is no other light to kindle and to guide
whoever is intent on lofty love.
what a marvel it is, when on the grass
flower-like she sits, or yet when she presses
a green tuft with her white breast!
how sweet it is to see her in the spring
walking alone together with her thoughts,
weaving a garland for her waxy gleaming gold!
This one reads with a little more difficulty. Petrarch, adoring "her" so exquisitely, somewhat like in sonnet two, envies the woman's surrounding nature that can follow "her" so innocently, as she carries out her walking, speaking, bathing, etc. In turn, he feels corrupted in comparison, for also wishing to commit such innocent deeds that only nature can accomplish for "her," and, by that, calls himself that which consumes: a "flame to burn."Happy, blissful flowers, and well-born grass,
That my pensive Lady is wont to tread upon;
Gentle incline that to her sweet words listen
And of her lovely foot retain some trace,
Smooth saplings, and green and tender leaves,
Darling pale violets;
Shadowy woods where plays the sun
That makes you with its rays tall and superb;
O sweet countryside, o pure stream,
That bathe her lovely face and her clear eyes,
And quality take from her live light;
How I envy you your honest dear acts!
There will be no rock in you by now that from habit
Learns not with my flame to burn.
This sonnet also presents a few difficulties, seeming slightly more complex and almost philosophical. Given the inevitable changes and flux defined by life, as with everyone, on occasion some of the worse events distinguish stronger than the better events; Petrarch, regardless, seeks more "on the cause, not on the effect." Two disparate moments can begin the same, but end entirely differently, causing the poet to regard all events the same, or "bear equally." Love, something seemingly more constant that the incessant flux of life, Petrarch accepts as a stabilizing emotion, bringing happiness, as long as living "under the moon," and making the most bitter root sweet.I sang; now i weep, and take no less sweetness
From weeping, than from song i took;
for my senses, though cherishing height,
Are intent on the cause, not on the effect.
Hence mildness and harshness,
And fierce acts, and humble and courteous ones
I bear equally; now am I heavy-burdened,
nor do chafts of disdain my armor pierce.
Let love, my Lady, the world and my fortune
Keep then toward me their usual style;
For I don't think I'll ever be anything but happy.
Whether I live or die or languish, there is
No serener state than mine under the moon;
So sweet is of my bitterness the root.
You might just rewrite them in your own prose to see how they come apart for you.Originally Posted by student007
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