Sonnet 22

Standard
Cent et cent fois penser un penser mesme,
A deux beaux yeux montrer à nud son coeur,
Boire tousjours d’une amere liqueur,
Manger tousjours d’une amertume extrème,
 
Avoir et l’ame et le visage blème,
Plus soupirer moins fléchir la rigueur,
Mourir d’ennuy receler sa langueur,
Du vueil d’autruy des loix faire à soymème ;
 
Un court despit une aimantine foy
Aimer trop mieux son ennemy que soy,
Se peindre au front mille vaines figures :
 
Vouloir crier et n’oser respirer,
Esperer tout et se desesperer,
Sont de ma mort les plus certains augures.
 
 
 
                                                                       Thinking the same thought a hundred times and more,
                                                                       Showing your heart, naked, to two lovely eyes,
                                                                       Having always to drink a bitter drink,
                                                                       And always having to eat extreme bitterness,
 
                                                                       Being pale in both soul and face,
                                                                       Sighing more and turning aside her harshness less,
                                                                       Dying of waiting and accepting pining,
                                                                       Making of another’s wishes laws for yourself ;
 
                                                                       A brief jealousy and a lasting love,
                                                                       Preferring your enemy to yourself,
                                                                       Wearing on your face a thousand wasted expressions ;
 
                                                                       Wanting to shout, but not daring to breathe,
                                                                       Hoping for everything but losing hope for yourself,
                                                                       These are the most certain omens of my death.
 
 
 
Blanchemain offers some minor variants: line 5 becomes “Avoir la face et triste, et morne, et bleme” (Your face being sad and dreary and pale); and lines 11-12
 
Peindre en ses yeux mille vaines figures :
Vouloir parler et n’oser respirer
 
                                                                       Wearing in your eyes a thousand wasted expressions ;
                                                                       Wanting to talk, but not daring to breathe
 
 
 
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About fattoxxon

Who am I? Lover of all sorts of music - classical, medieval, world (anything from Africa), world-classical (Uzbek & Iraqi magam for instance), and virtually anything that won't be on the music charts... Lover of Ronsard's poetry (obviously) and of sonnets in general. Reader of English, French, Latin & other literature. And who is Fattoxxon? An allusion to an Uzbek singer - pronounce it Patahan, with a very plosive 'P' and a throaty 'h', as in 'khan')

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