Saturday, February 22, 2003
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 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.
The above is the Shakespearean sonnet Alan Rickman decided to recite for the "When Love Speaks" CD. Apparently he likes it because it's one of the rudest, so he finds it very amusing. (Girls, repeat with me: Guys... *rolls eyes in exasperation*) Although the last 4 lines are arguably sweet.
|
:: Photo by National Geographic Society Copyright © 2002 ::