Monday, September 15, 2008

Reading Shakespeare today as a strange warm wind whipped through my yard. I took a break to mow grass, which in the wind was almost enjoyable.

This sonnet might be the funniest love poem I've ever read. Who else but W.S. could get away with a line like the one that ends with "reeks"?

Sonnet 130
William Shakespeare
My mistress's 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 damask'd, 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.
Dinner tonight: tomato soup, with either basil and cream or onion and cilantro salsa; popovers; spinach and apple salad

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