13. mar 2009 19:17
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, 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. Pa še slovenski prevod
Ne ona nima žametnih oči
in niti kodrov mehkih kakor svila,
če sneg je bel, ga v njenih nedrih ni
in usta bi se od koral ločila.
Sem videl rože bele in rdeče,
na njenih licih take ne cveto
in so dišave, ki so bolj dehteče,
kot vonj, ki diha njeno ga telo.
Njen glas poslušam rad,
četudi vem da zvoki strun prijetneje zvene,
kako boginje hodijo ne vem;
ko ona hodi, stopa kot ljudje.
Pa vendar se mi zdi bolj očarljiva kot vse,
ki pesem jih slavi lažniva.
Ah...
nina _
macek muri
