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.



Random Thoughts: Bolne ka, to saaf saaf sidha bol.
Favorite Reading: Origin of the species, A brief history of time, Naipaul`s socio-politcial travel novels
Favorite Writers: Darwin, Naipaul, Nirad Chowdhury, Gandhi. Shakespeare.

Interacts by halur

iLogs by halur