Sonnet 044 - XLIV
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth remov'd from thee;
For nimble thought can jump both sea and land,
As soon as think the place where he would be.
But, ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that so much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time's leisure with my moan;
Receiving nought by elements so slow
But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.

bot by @davidaugust

#sonnet #poem #Shakespeare

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗣𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗱𝘆𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘆 𝗲𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲

Je poursuis la mise à jour de mes poèmes sur #Panodyssey, avec l'intégration de la 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗜𝗔. Un travail qui pourrait sembler fastidieux, mais qui s’avère facile à mettre en place.

Qui plus est, vous l'avez découvert hier, cela me permet de vous partager le texte en accès libre une fois la mise à jour réalisée.

Aujourd'hui : 𝘈𝘶𝘹 𝘦𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘶𝘴.

https://panodyssey.com/fr/article/poesie-et-chanson/aux-enfants-perdus-crk8ug792jm6

#poesie #sonnet #GabrielDax

https://panodyssey.com/fr/article/poesie-et-chanson/aux-enfants-perdus-crk8ug792jm6

Today is #OpeningDay, the best day of the year, when hope springs eternal and everyone is in first place. (I know two teams played last night, but this is the "real" opening day for most of the teams in the league. As per tradition, here is my annual post of #Baseball #Sonnet. Enjoy, and #playball

https://aarubin.wordpress.com/2026/03/26/a-sonnet-for-opening-day-4/

Sonnet 060 - LX
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
And yet to times in hope, my verse shall stand
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

bot by @davidaugust

#sonnet #poem #Shakespeare

Sonnet 077 - LXXVII
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look what thy memory cannot contain,
Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain,
To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.

bot by @davidaugust

#sonnet #poem #Shakespeare

Sonnet 106 - CVI
When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme,
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have express'd
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And for they looked but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.

bot by @davidaugust

#sonnet #poem #Shakespeare

Sonnet 145 - CXLV
Those lips that Love's own hand did make,
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate',
To me that languished for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom;
And taught it thus anew to greet;
'I hate' she altered with an end,
That followed it as gentle day,
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
'I hate', from hate away she threw,
And saved my life, saying 'not you'.

bot by @davidaugust

#sonnet #poem #Shakespeare

Sonnet 067 - LXVII
Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,
And with his presence grace impiety,
That sin by him advantage should achieve,
And lace itself with his society?
Why should false painting imitate his cheek,
And steal dead seeming of his living hue?
Why should poor beauty indirectly seek
Roses of shadow, since his rose is true?
Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is,
Beggar'd of blood to blush through lively veins?
For she hath no exchequer now but his,
And proud of many, lives upon his gains.
O! him she stores, to show what wealth she had
In days long since, before these last so bad.

bot by @davidaugust

#sonnet #poem #Shakespeare

Page blanche

Sur une page blanche,
Un éclat noir de houille ;
Cette gribouille souille
Et ce clair-obscur tranche.

Pour les histoires franches,
Faut des carabistouilles,
Que ça parte en quenouille :
Les sentiments s’épanchent.

La poésie, en voilà :
Texte de hors-la-loi
Qui s’enfuit à minuit.

Pauvre chercheur de rimes,
Aucun or, aucun louis,
Et la beauté en prime.

#sonnet
#poetry
#poésie
#photography
#photographie