Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
No, you are a winter's night.
Ice crystals blowing every way,
Moon glow, soft silver light.
Shall I compare thee to an autumn evening?
No, you are a bright spring morn.
When sleet and snow run fleeing,
Fresh life again is born.
Shall I compare thee to the rising sun?
No, you are both the rise and fall;
Bright blinding all in one,
Sweet light surrounding all.
With eyes open wide to see,
How can I possibly compare thee.
Nov/12/08
A play off of William Shakespeare's sonnet # 18.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem