XEREDİN BERQ http://xeredinberq.com on the track of my soul Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:38:46 +0000 tr-TR hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=4.8.1 https://i0.wp.com/xeredinberq.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/cropped-xb-mavi.png?fit=32%2C32 XEREDİN BERQ http://xeredinberq.com 32 32 133361486 Sonet LIV http://xeredinberq.com/sonet-liv/ http://xeredinberq.com/sonet-liv/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:38:46 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2388 O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye
As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly
When summer’s breath their masked buds discloses:
But, for their virtue only is their show,
They live unwoo’d and unrespected fade,
Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall fade, my verse distills your truth.

William Shakespeare

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Silvia http://xeredinberq.com/silvia/ http://xeredinberq.com/silvia/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:37:04 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2386 WHO is Silvia? What is she?
That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she;
The heaven such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be.

Is she kind as she is fair?
For beauty lives with kindness:
Love doth to her eyes repair,
To help him of his blindness;
And, being help’d, inhabits there.

Then to Silvia let us sing,
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing
Upon the dull earth dwelling:
To her let us garlands bring.

William Shakespeare

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Sigh No More http://xeredinberq.com/sigh-no-more/ http://xeredinberq.com/sigh-no-more/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:35:43 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2384 Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blith and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no mo
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leavy.
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blith and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.

William Shakespeare

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Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? http://xeredinberq.com/shall-i-compare-thee-to-a-summers-day/ http://xeredinberq.com/shall-i-compare-thee-to-a-summers-day/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:34:08 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2382 Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

William Shakespeare

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Orpheus with his Lute Made Trees http://xeredinberq.com/orpheus-with-his-lute-made-trees/ http://xeredinberq.com/orpheus-with-his-lute-made-trees/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:31:30 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2380 Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.

Everything that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or hearing, die.

William Shakespeare

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Orpheus http://xeredinberq.com/orpheus/ http://xeredinberq.com/orpheus/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:29:43 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2378 ORPHEUS with his lute made trees
And the mountain tops that freeze
Bow themselves when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.

Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or hearing, die.

William Shakespeare

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Not marble nor the guilded monuments http://xeredinberq.com/not-marble-nor-the-guilded-monuments/ http://xeredinberq.com/not-marble-nor-the-guilded-monuments/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:27:30 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2376 Not marble nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone, besmear’d with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
‘Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room,
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

William Shakespeare

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Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck http://xeredinberq.com/not-from-the-stars-do-i-my-judgment-pluck/ http://xeredinberq.com/not-from-the-stars-do-i-my-judgment-pluck/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:25:48 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2374 Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck,
And yet methinks I have astronomy;
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well
By oft predict that I in heaven find.
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive
If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert:
Or else of thee this I prognosticate,
Thy end is truth’s and beauty’s doom and date.

William Shakespeare

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My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun http://xeredinberq.com/my-mistress-eyes-are-nothing-like-the-sun/ http://xeredinberq.com/my-mistress-eyes-are-nothing-like-the-sun/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:23:58 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2372 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 damasked, 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.

William Shakespeare

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Love http://xeredinberq.com/love/ http://xeredinberq.com/love/#respond Sun, 06 Aug 2017 21:21:44 +0000 http://xeredinberq.com/?p=2370 TELL me where is Fancy bred,
Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply.
It is engender’d in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and Fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.
Let us all ring Fancy’s knell:
I’ll begin it,–Ding, dong, bell.
All. Ding, dong, bell.

William Shakespeare

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