January 2010
19 posts
The Musician
I. why is it so drunk of his temper eyes; and rosy lips,
that the moon e’en bounc’d its love to him?
why doth the lips being unneed to kiss his gentle beauty?
nor skin to touch, nor nose to smell, nor ears to hear;
my five senses art numb’d, thy beauteous exceeds too much;
but, ‘tis, as not a choice, my heart that see thee red and passionate
and worth to be...
“In truth when Allah SWT is in love with one of His slave; so be called Jibril...”
– Muhammad the Last Prophet, quoted by H.R. Muslim
Sonnet no. XXI / Warwickshire
if all the loves could be as smooth as him,
and as fair as his eyes; from a gentle stare,
there must be no pain; nor torment praise;
so what doth tortur’d me to see the lonesome of thyself,
and hurt me to see thee admiring thy love,
thou strangely appear’d, and pass; pass away,
then banish’d into deep sentiment of delightful woe
thou art my sun; that daily rise and set
...
Sonnet no. XX / When Orion Falls
if love is giving; not receiving;
why doth I receiv’d so much to see his eyes
and spit’d, to obtain so much grace?
and what doth I give to him;
nor plain happiness, nor sweet comparisons?
e’en he replies no caress, I receiv’d too much
and if I’m the lover, that should be giving
what doth I can give him, if he receiv’d the wisdom
and gentle beauty, and...
Sonnet no. XIX / Prospero
what doth he look’d in me;
if he hath all the grace for having that moon; his eyes;
and Betelgeux in his smile; for it shin’d through?
what doth he ask’d me;
if he hath all the answer in his brilliant lips;
and beauteous in his painful face?
o, the sky must be so jealous to thee,
for thou hath more stars in thy dower than a summer night;
but when he stares on me, and...
Sonnet no. XVIII / Antonia Graza
he dwelt upon my love; and hath all the luck
o, though he hadst all that was mine,
between his kisses, I feel in nowhere
and though he pluck’d all my strings,
between his vows, I feel like nothing
to thee I forlorn, to thy self I forsworn; all I see was her
with Damascus rose in her cheeks and precious jewel in her eyes
and thus he play’d with all my strings that echo
my song...
Sonnet no. XVII / Between His Fake Oaths
my lips art obtus’d of praising;
and my eyes art blind of admiring;
my love grows older, and my words turn dull
my adore and dote spit’d in his young beauty
alas! nothing is worth enough to compare thee
years past, he grow’d in time,
but once I vow’d my love is young,
though years he thriv’d, and wrinkles in his ages,
there’s no ‘old’ in his...
“The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth,...”
– Theseus, from Shakespeare’s play A Midsummer Night’s Dream, act v scene i
Sonnet. XVI / The Grey Nigthingale
see thee again, sweet love;
thence thou can regain thy bless’d beauteous
see thee agan! to the next full-moon;
for me thou art perfect, though thou swear’d thou art not,
thou hadst my heart, and so hadst half of my blood
so thou resembl’d the heir of my love
and I can see the moon fill’d thy eyes
and Cupid’s bow bent to thy smiles
and e’ery musician...
The Hunter and The Hound III
may the Orion sings to his hound sake
all’s dead, all’s forlorn to his woe
‘to our home, where we shalt dwelt,
to our bed, the December sky
to our might hath shine and seize
but the queen of south might o’ertake
but we art no longer great friends
but great friends art they that wilst cry
whene’er my grave moves my bones
but, from today on, day by day
wilst...
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“Come, gentle night, — come, loving black brow’d night,
Give me my Romeo;...”
– Juliet, act iii scene ii, from Shakespeare’s tragedy Romeo & Juliet
“My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
Thy grace being gain’d cures all...”
– The Passionate Pilgrim III, line vii - x, William Shakespeare
