Lately i have noticed people who like me for what they think i am, not for who i really am. Which is ok in the beginning. But most never bother to find out more, and instead choose to live in their own imaginary world. Ignorance is bliss? :)
The sonnet has been my fav for years, and i think the Estonian translation is even better than the original (blasphemy, i know!). Hope you'll enjoy.
CXXX
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 damask'd, 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.
Mu kallil puudub päikse pilk ja jume,
ta suul ei näe koralli verevust.
Kui lumi valge on, tal rind on tume;
kui juus on traat, siis peas tal traat on must.
Tean roose kirjuid, valgeid, verevaid -
ei õheta mu armsaim roosipõsi.
Et lõhnu olen haistnud hõrgemaid
kui tema hingeõhk, ka see on tõsi.
Mul tema kõnet kuulata on hea,
ehk muusika on kaunim küll, ei salga.
Kuis jumalannad sammuvad, ei tea;
Mu kallim käies maha toetab jalga.
Ja siiski teda kallimaks pean muist,
noist võrdlustega võltsilt kiidetuist.
