When In History, Stories And Poems I Read (Sonnet Corona) - Poem by Gert Strydom
(after William Shakespeare)
When in history, stories and poems I read
about the greatest, the most fair persons
with the remarkable lives they did lead,
of knights guarding ladies for some reasons
then in you my lovely darling princess,
I see in everything, even your brow
more beauty than pens of old did express
and in the lovely looks that are yours now
is such exceeding glorious, awesome grace,
that all declarations prefigure you
up to this very moment in time and space,
are just substitutes trying to hold true,
to you the world is waiting as if ready,
arise - walk into my arms, my lady.
Arise - walk into my arms, my lady,
rise up my beloved true companion
the hot bright summer sun is already
falling with a love filled emotion
on the pure white leaves of the lilies,
the finches are already twittering
the wind is passing quick like young fillies
and outside the entire world is stirring.
Rise up my sweetest white lovely rose
and awake to the blessed bright morning,
arise from you tranquil kind of repose
and experience the greatness of spring,
of everything that’s good, great and living,
hear the joyous songs, the alluring feeling.
Hear the joyous songs, the alluring feeling,
from what is held as a true loveliness,
others have just some features been stealing;
your looks, grace, personality do not digress.
Not doom or the evil works of destiny
can control each and every coming thing,
can totally control either you or me,
or the pure fountain from where all things spring.
Neither is my love for you controlled by
events, people or situations that impact on it
as I have many kinds of choices that lie
in my two hands, that changes bit by bit.
In all kinds of things I want to be true,
may my lines only express love to you.
May my lines only express love to you,
tell no lies and not lack in sincerity
and whatever I now say and I do
become deeper and carry more integrity.
As constantly my love grows intense
and with time it becomes much clearer
that at no one else’s pain or expense,
that you are now becoming much dearer
than that what you used to be to me
and although I thought that no other love
could ever be more sincere and free
more intense, or could still more improve,
our love is better than only moments ago
while it still have hours, days and years to grow.
While it still have hours, days and years to grow
to our love, may these words be our monument,
may it in sincerity forever glow
may it stay, when everything else is spent.
These words are left by me as did others
but all of my sincere feelings for you
must not contain anything that bothers
as they are full of integrity and true
and we might only be like the moth and flame
attracted to light and differences
but the feelings still do remain the same,
which I do profane as does the consequences
and still I am just trying to stay true,
even in rout I keep honouring you.
Even in rout I keep honouring you,
I who have nothing, but sincerity,
I must be able to find something true,
in the extreme darkness that surrounds me.
When I see the lights of heaven glancing
through your lovely clear sun filled eyes,
when you are smiling so all-embracing
I am not bothered by any cloudy skies.
When I was but still extremely young,
I walked through the veldt many a mile,
the loveliest sight did to the sky belong
while I was lost in its hot sunshine smile,
I was seeing the world through childlike eyes,
when I was sincere, stripped from lies.
When I was sincere, stripped from lies;
I was wondering what to find in darkness
that is just as clear as the bright blue skies,
that is honourable, free from wickedness?
When most of my days are quickly rushing past
will you then as now, still truly love me,
in old age, when any day can be my last?
Will you still be happy, laugh joyously,
be here to keep me with sweet company
when I am broken by destiny in contrast
to the young man that I used to be,
when all of the good things in life do pass?
Will I then still feel your body’s true heat,
when in history, stories and poems I read?
Comments about When In History, Stories And Poems I Read (Sonnet Corona) by Gert Strydom
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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