To my amazement, I can't find a thread which discusses Shakespeare's sonnets in the Poetry section, so this is a general discussion about any aspect of the sonnets you want to discuss.
Discuss away!
To my amazement, I can't find a thread which discusses Shakespeare's sonnets in the Poetry section, so this is a general discussion about any aspect of the sonnets you want to discuss.
Discuss away!
Hi,
There is a particular Sonnet 18 by Shakespeare that i really like and that touched my heart when i first read it. the Sonnet goes like this:
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 dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
William Shakespeare
MarkC
I am the author of Parmethia
A funny sonnet? Yes, Shakespeare wrote at least one--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 damasked, 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.
The first 120 are to a man; the rest is to a woman, the 'Dark Lady'.Originally Posted by GumboW
I quite like Sonnet 42- the love-triangle sonnet.
Sonnet 138 is also comic:
When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young.
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false speaking tongue:
On both side thus is simple truth suppress'd:
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O! love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be
Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
This one is my favorite albeit cliche, but it is absolutely beautiful =]
very wedding speech lol
I adore Shakespeare. I had translated some of his sonnets.. Of course I'm not as great as Shakespeare, but I was doing it with great pleasure!
Last edited by Le_Iris; 03-02-2010 at 12:18 PM.
C'est sexy le ciel de Californie...
My favourite of all Shakespeare's sonnets. It is beautifull in my opinion. Many in the modern media would do well to read this sonnet, for example, magazine editors who photoshop pictures etc...
what was Shakespeare's message? Why must one be perfect- perfection is not all that great, what is great is the person I love and I do not love them because they are as perfect as somebody else says.
Oh, I absolutely love that one! I'm in love with Shakespeare's works, and though I am currently concentrating on his plays, because I am an aspiring, young actress, I love his sonnets as well!
"The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool." As You Like It, William Shakespeare
An amusing one (Sonnet 138)
'When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young.
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false speaking tongue:
On both side thus is simple truth suppress'd:
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
Oh! love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be'
Sonnet 130 is the start of the Dark Lady section and there is certainly a lot more cynicism and worldliness than in the poems to the young man.
The Dark Lady sonnets start a little bit before 130, I can't remember the exact number though. I distinctly remember that the ones immediately before 130 are about the Dark Lady as well.
I think Shakespeare's sonnets are much more interesting when they're contrasted with more traditional sonnets, like those of Sidney's Astrophil and Stella.
Anyone else fond of Sidney's Astrophil and Stella?
Sir Philip Sidney.
Astrophil and Stella
I
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,—
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe ;
Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain,
Oft turning others' leaves to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burned brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting invention's stay ;
Invention, nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows,
And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my way.
Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
Fool, said my muse to me, look in thy heart and write.
"If the national mental illness of the United States is megalomania, that of Canada is paranoid schizophrenia."
- Margaret Atwood
Yes, certainly. Love this one particularly:
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What, may it be that even in heav'nly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries!
Sure, if that long-with love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case,
I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then, ev'n of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be lov'd, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?
Do they call virtue there ungratefulness?
Though you really need to read the whole cycle, or much of it, in order to fully appreciate what's going on and to get more from each of them.
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