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Jul. 30th, 2012 11:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
justaprettyfaceI really needed to take a break from magic theory research today. I am very happy to be helping Luke after everything he has done for me but it can just be so difficult to understand sometimes. He claims it is because the books I'm looking at are written in Trade rather than Kilian but I don't know if I'm convinced about that.
Anyway, I ended up exploring the library and eventually found a book of the bard's works. So I took the chance to read some of the sonnets and there are a lot of really good ones. It is amazing how incredible his writing is and how many of the things he wrote people still say today.
After reading them all, I can definitely say that 130 is my favourite.
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.
Anyway, I ended up exploring the library and eventually found a book of the bard's works. So I took the chance to read some of the sonnets and there are a lot of really good ones. It is amazing how incredible his writing is and how many of the things he wrote people still say today.
After reading them all, I can definitely say that 130 is my favourite.
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.
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Date: 2012-07-30 03:29 pm (UTC)