Day 286: April Woe

Ah, Shakespeare, the mighty maestro of the English language.

Don't let the vernacular put you off; Shakespeare's sonnets are among the most beautifully written love poems in the language (and offer a full disclosure of what unrequited love is all about). Here he explains how even though it is 'proud-pied' April and Spring, it is winter to him, who is pining for  his love.


Sonnet 98 - William Shakespeare

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him,
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odor and in hue,
Could make me any summer's story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew.
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
    Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away,
    As with your shadow I with these did play.