the 398nd anniversary of either his death
and the death of Cervantes
just to wish a very special literary evening.
It's also the (International) Day of the book?
Well, yes. But isn't every day a day of the book?
Comparing the results of my recent attempts to write some sonnets myself with what I am rereading these days, I came to the conclusion, in order not to put anyone off the realm of poetry, to post rather one from the Master of Avondale.
Alack what poverty my muse brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argument all bare is of more worth
Than when it hath my added praise beside.
O blame me not if I no more can write!
Look in your glass and there appears a face,
That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.
Were it not sinful then striving to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well?
For to no other my verses tend,
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell.
And more, much more than in my verse can sit,
Your own glass shows you, when you look in it.
* Blessed be your good memory. Well, indeed, knowing I would be fighting with a deadline, I went back to April 23rd, 2009, copied and pasted, updated the years, and voilà.
After all, it's no dissertation.
Have a good day, Shakespeare! And all writers, everywhere.ReplyDelete
Remembering well the 2009 post, and a very irritating Claudia, pointing out that, on the last line, it was IN IT, not AT IT as you had copied. So glad I got rid of that girl!
Actually, this write hopes for at least some good years. :)Delete
Ah, I was and still am glad when being corrected. Even more, when I don't make the very mistake, again.
Ahem... "this write"?Delete
Cervantes? Hah. Mere fiction!ReplyDelete
Find a true hero, like noble me (Yes. I do still wander, far from Andrew's ken)
Ah, back he is, my noble knight,Delete
as ever ready to fight
windmills, typos & smilies
by day and by night.