Elle n'a jamais dit son amour
Salvador DaliGirl Standing At Window 1925
based on Twelfth Night [II,iv] by Shakespeare
Elle n'a jamais dit son amour
Mais a laissé le secret, comme un ver, dans le bourgeon,
Se nourrir de sa joue de damas:
Elle a désiré ardemment dans la pensée,
et avec un vert et une mélancolie jaune
Assise, comme la Patience sur un monument,
Elle souriait à son affliction.
N'était pas cet amour en effet?
She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm in the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek:
She pined in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like Patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
posted by whimsical_fantasies at 11:08 PM
2 Comments:
Love is a strange thing.
Tastes so different to everyone!
It tastes differently to the same person at different times too.
What am I talking about...
I LOVE THIS POEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -GuSh-
SO NICE! WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE!!!!!!!!!!! -SwOoN-
These two lines are especially tender: "But let concealment, like a worm in the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek"
It is such a evocative image. Such feminine charm at risk! Alas... Such a fool is he who does not see, the rotting in the rose, caused by the careless lover.
Or maybe "damask cheek" is just thick make-up. Makes more sense that way. Maybe she is ah-gleeeeeee... So the worm rot her chick.
"She sat like Patience on a monument" is another wonderful line. Such pathos! At once captures her stoicism and hints at the nature of her sorrow.
In conclusion, I HATE SHAKESPEARE. HE CAN KISS MY ARSE. STUPID MAN. WHY MUST HE THINK UP THIS POEM BEFORE I DID. IDIOT.
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