sexta-feira, 15 de fevereiro de 2013

THREE POEMS - IN CELEBRATION OF VALENTINE’S DAY



THREE POEMS 
 IN CELEBRATION OF VALENTINE’S DAY

How Do I Love Thee?
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

"The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran, pg. 11 & 12
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver
in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and
shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked,
He sifts you to free you from your husks,
He grinds you to whiteness,
He kneads you until pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire,
that you may become one sacred bread for God's feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of the heart,
and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart ...


To A Husband
by Anne Kingsmill Finch  (1661-1720)
This
is to the crown and blessing of my life,
The much loved husband of a happy
wife;
To him whose constant passion found the art
To win a stubborn and
ungrateful heart,
And to the world by tenderest proof discovers
They err,
who say that husbands can't be lovers.
With such return of passion, as is
due,
Daphnis I love, Daphinis my thoughts pursue;
Daphnis, my hopes and
joys are bounded all in you.
Even I, for Daphnis' and my promise'
sake,
What I in woman censure, undertake.
But this from love, not vanity
proceeds;
You know who writes, and I who 'tis that reads.
Judge not my
passion by my want of skill:
Many love well, though they express it
ill;
And I your censure could with pleasure bear,
Would you but soon
return, and speak it here.


The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
C. Marlowe

Come live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dale and field, And all the craggy mountains yield. There will we sit upon the rocks 5And see the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. There will I make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, 10A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle. A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull, Fair linèd slippers for the cold, 15With buckles of the purest gold. A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my Love. 20 Thy silver dishes for thy meat As precious as the gods do eat, Shall on an ivory table be Prepared each day for thee and me. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing 25For thy delight each May-morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my Love.
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