My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130)
by William Shakespeare
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.
Note to the Author: While women appreciate honesty, they don't appreciate it that much. It doesn’t really work to inform her “Sweetie, you look a bit of a fright in the morning.” Even if you try to make it up in the last two lines, don't be surprised if she's banging Marlow by morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment