Soooo...... What's in the box?

IN THE BOX TODAY:

SHAKESPEAREAN SONNETS

So - I was going through "The Complete Works of William

Shakespeare", desperately trying to kill some time until my computer agreed to cooperate and actually start up.

Anywhoo, I stumbled upon this lovely sonnet, number 130, to be more specific:

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 pérfumes 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 have inserted the "No Fear Shakespeare" modern translation of the sonnet below, so those not familiar with the Shakespearean language can follow.. I don't blame you, though, Shakespeare is tough, I don't even get it half the time and I love his works) :-)

My mistress’s eyes are nothing like the sun.

 Coral is much redder than the red of her lips.

 Compared to the whiteness of snow, her breasts are grayish-brown.

Poets describe their mistresses' hair as gold wires,

but my mistress has black wires growing on her head.

I have seen roses that were a mixture of red and white,

but I don’t see those colors in her cheeks.

And some perfumes smell more delightful than my mistress’s reeking breath.

I love to hear her speak; yet I know perfectly well that music has a far more pleasant sound.

I admit I never saw a goddess walk; when my mistress walks, she treads on the ground.

And yet, by heaven, I think my beloved is as special as any woman

whom poets have lied about with false comparisons.

Well, well, well - if it isn't good old William actually rebelling against over-romanticized poems and declarations of love - the ones in which the poets use excessive use of imagery, often comparing the object of their affections to the beauty found in the nature around them.

Yet Willie says that you can still love someone and admire their beauty, wihtout going sappy poet on their arse.

If only the modern idea of beauty (generally speaking) could follow the path of sonnet 130 - praising beauty, but still acknowledging that reality is far from the idealized concept of beauty.

.... But alas! The media has us under its spell, and I'm afraid there is nothing much we can do to rebel against such powerful a force.

Well....  I suppose we could always write a poem about it?

..... Oh, and another aspect, because good old Shakey seem to be somewhat of a hypocrit in this matter, since he himself has written many many MANY sappy sonnets. Need I say Shall I compare Thee to a Summer's Day?

So.. That was just a load of Shakespeare blabbering from my part.

Hope you can enjoy the joke below. If not, read sonnet 18 and laugh later.