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Sonnet 130: My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun - Poem by William Shakespeare

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.


Comments about Sonnet 130: My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun by William Shakespeare

  • Gold Star - 128,580 Points Fabrizio Frosini (4/2/2016 10:03:00 AM)

    in ITALIAN:

    Gli occhi della mia donna non sono come il sole; il corallo è assai più rosso del rosso delle sue labbra; se la neve è bianca, allora i suoi seni sono grigi; se i capelli sono crini, neri crini crescono sul suo capo. Ho visto rose variegate, rosse e bianche, ma tali rose non le vedo sulle sue guance; e in certi profumi c'e' maggiore delizia che nel fiato che la mia donna esala. Amo sentirla parlare, eppure so che la musica ha un suono molto più gradito. Ammetto di non aver mai visto camminare una dea, ma la mia donna camminando calca la terra. Eppure, per il cielo. ritengo che la mia amata si straordinaria come ogni altra donna falsamente cantata con immagini esagerate. (Report) Reply

    21 person liked.
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  • Gold Star - 128,580 Points Fabrizio Frosini (1/25/2016 5:34:00 PM)

    With a deftness of touch that takes away any sting that might otherwise arise from implied criticism of other sonneteers, the poet satirises the tradition of comparing one's beloved to all things beautiful under the sun, and to things divine and immortal as well. It is often said that the praise of his mistress is so negative that the reader is left with the impression that she is almost unlovable. On the contrary, although the octet makes many negative comparisons, the sestet contrives to make one believe that the sound of her voice is sweeter than any music, and that she far outdistances any goddess in her merely human beauties and her mortal approachability.
    shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/ (Report) Reply

  • Veteran Poet - 1,023 Points Reyvrex Questor Reyes (10/10/2015 8:19:00 PM)

    Sonnet 130-A

    My love, caress me only with thine eyes,
    And not with hands, so bare, where corn now grows,
    Or call to me as of brisk wind that blows,
    With thy damp breath which always brings the flies;
    Now, pour some Cognac, filled to flowing be,
    Or else, just kiss the brim of my wine cup
    Before you toast, and fully drink it up,
    Oft thou consumes the contents before me,
    Then call me from afar with shrill catcalls,
    To complement thy sharp and pointed claws,
    Which might highlight thine other childish flaws,
    That could explain, to some degree, thy falls;
    ........But mark to Heaven mine love's industry,
    ........That makes up for her lacking artistry. (Report) Reply

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Poems About Simile

  1. 1. Sonnet 130: My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothin.. , William Shakespeare
  2. 2. A Red, Red Rose , Robert Burns
  3. 3. Similes For Two Political Characters Of .. , Percy Bysshe Shelley
  4. 4. Dream Deferred , Langston Hughes
  5. 5. An Emerald Is As Green As Grass , Christina Georgina Rossetti
  6. 6. The Star , Jane Taylor
  7. 7. Similes , Albert Pike
  8. 8. A Simile , Navarre Scott Momaday
  9. 9. The Base Stealer , Robert Francis
  10. 10. An Autumnal Simile , Victor Marie Hugo
  11. 11. To Mr. Edward Howard, On His Incomparabl.. , Charles Sackville
  12. 12. Procemion , Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
  13. 13. The Advice , Thomas Chatterton
  14. 14. The Ghost: Book Iii (Excerpt) , Charles Churchill
  15. 15. Mock Panegyric On A Young Friend , Jane Austen
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