My Favorite Shakespeare Sonnet And Its Translation to Modern English.

By: www.nosweatshakespeare.com/sonnets/

Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Translation to modern English
I would not admit that anything could interfere with the union of two people who love each other. Love that alters with changing circumstances is not love, nor if it bends from its firm state when someone tries to destroy it. Oh no, it's an eternally fixed point that watches storms but is never itself shaken by them. It is the star by which every lost ship can be guided: one can calculate it's distance but not gauge its quality. Love doesn't depend on Time, although the rosy lips and cheeks of youth eventually come within the compass of Time's sickle. Love doesn't alter as the days and weeks go by but endures until death. If I'm wrong about this then I've never written anything and no man has ever loved.

... Me, myself and I...

I'm bored....

It's three a.m.

Everyboby can write at this ungodly hour...

Poetry... Some of My Favorite Poems...

1.

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII

2.
How do I love thee?

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
-- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

3. A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow -You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand -How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?

Edgar Allan Poe

4. Destiny

Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours

For one lone soul another lonely soul

Each choosing each through all the weary hours

And meeting strangely at one sudden goal.

Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers,

Into one beautiful and perfect whole;

And life's long night is ended, and the way

Lies open onward to eternal day.

Edwin Arnold

Eternal Doubts...

The questions you always wanted to know, but never had the courage to ask...

1. Why did the Flinstones celebrated Christmas, if they lived before Christ?
2. How did Tarzan always managed to have a clean shave?
3. How come the guy in "Planet of the Apes" never suspects were he is, if all the apes are speaking english?
4. If all man are the same, why do women choose so much?
5. If everyone says blondes are dumb, then why are there still women who paint their hair that color?
6. If every rule has an excepition, and that's a rule, what's the exception?
7. If the sentence 'keyboard not instaled, press any key to continue' what the hell, do I do?
8. Why is it, that whenever we ask someone to help us find a lost object, they always ask 'where have you left it?', I mean if I knew that I wouldn't be asking for your help, now would I?
9. Who was born first, the egg or the chicken?and by the way, is the glass half empty or half full?
10. What's the point of asking: 'Are you awake?'

About Stuff...

“Writer’s block, o, writer’s
block
How I despise thee,
I would write on,
But thou has consumed
me.”

Write on!

THE EVIL CAN OF COCA-COLA

It was a ordinary morning, the day when a small can of Coca-Cola caused a fight.
(which to be honest, I still don't understand why.) What a tragic day it was.
Well, it all started out like this:
I live in a 5 bedroom, 1 bathroom, small, pink house, in the middle of a big city.
My mother owns a business that operates at home. She is a witch. It's a pretty "busy" business,
so she hired an employee. Me.
My name is Sara, and I'm good at what I do, so I work almost 8 hours a day. Anyway, my mother likes Coca-cola... like, ALOT.
So she brings one home everyday. She keeps it with her at all times, and it's basically the only thing she'll drink after a busy day "at work". One day, she put it in the refrigerator. My brother, David, (who is 20, but still lives in the couch), just happened to be in the kitchen, and thirsty.
He was tired of the tap water from the sink. So he opened the fridge. He saw the can of Coca-cola in there, (and without knowing it was mum's) drank it. He left the empty can in the refrigerator, and that's when it all started. Then later that day, my mother saw the empty can in the refrigerator and it all ended in a bloodbath...
...To BE CONTINUED...

It's My Favorite Park

It’s my favorite park. It’s beautiful, in a just-died-dead-corpse sort of way, especially in winter. It’s so lonely, even when it’s at the intersection of three fairly sizeable streets. At night it’s even better (though isn’t everything?) because no one’s bothered to fix the blinking streetlight. It reminds me of when I was a child, with matches. Flicker, flicker. Gone.
All that’s really there are swings, and a few benches, whatever. Everything comes down to two things when swinging: You and Gravity. Gravity vs. Me. I’m fighting the universe. And for once there are no expectations, nothing they want me to remember. When I’m there, I can be clumsy instead.
This park is my battleground. For once in my life, I’m winning.