Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Γυναίκα, η υπέροχη...

Κάθε Γυναίκα, μια Θεά,

Μια Θεά κάθε Γυναίκα...

'Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine,

Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red

The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine.

What seest thou in the ground? hold up thy head:

Look in mine eye-balls, there thy beauty lies;

Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?

'Art thou ashamed to kiss? then wink again,

And I will wink; so shall the day seem night;

Love keeps his revels where they are but twain;

Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight:

These blue-vein'd violets whereon we lean

Never can blab, nor know not what we mean.

'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip

Shows thee unripe; yet mayst thou well be tasted:

Make use of time, let not advantage slip;

Beauty within itself should not be wasted:

Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime

Rot and consume themselves in little time.

'Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old,

Ill-nurtured, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice,

O'erworn, despised, rheumatic and cold,

Thick-sighted, barren, lean and lacking juice,

Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for thee

But having no defects, why dost abhor me?

'Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow;

Mine eyes are gray and bright and quick in turning:

My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow,

My flesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning;

My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt,

Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt.

'Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,

Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green,

Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair,

Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen:

Love is a spirit all compact of fire,

Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.

'Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie;

These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me;

Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky,

From morn till night, even where I list to sport me:

Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be

That thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee?

'Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?

Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left?

Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected,

Steal thine own freedom and complain on theft.

Narcissus so himself himself forsook,

And died to kiss his shadow in the brook.

'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear,

Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use,

Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear:

Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse:

Seeds spring from seeds and beauty breedeth beauty;

Thou wast begot; to get it is thy duty.

'Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed,

Unless the earth with thy increase be fed?

By law of nature thou art bound to breed,

That thine may live when thou thyself art dead;

And so, in spite of death, thou dost survive,

In that thy likeness still is left alive.

exerpt, Venus and Adonis / W. Shakespeare.

Inspiration knocked on my door at... Tuesday, August 29, 2006