LOVE
George Herbert
Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back
Eros swept the couch while my soul flinched
Guilty of dust and sin
ashamed of the dust and sin that I have
But quick-eyed love, oberving me grow slack
from my first entrance in
But she is so bright and kind, and as soon as I stepped in, I was already aware of my panic.
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
Approach gently and ask gently
if I lack'd anything
Do you want
"A guest,"I answer'd,"worthy to be here"
"A guest," I replied, "is worthy of you to treat each other like this."
Love said,"You shall be here"
Eros said: "You are my guest"
"I ,the unkind,ungrateful?Ah my dear,I can't look on Thee."
"Me? A callous, ungrateful man? Ah, my dear, I can't look you in the eye"
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
She took my hand lightly and smiled:
"Who made the eyes but I?"
"Apart from me, who can hold such eyes again?"
"Truth, Lord; but I have marr'd them: let my shame
"Yes, but God, I ruined them. Please let the shame of my heart come to pass."
Go where it doth deserve.”
“And know you not,” says Love, “Who bore the blame?”
"I know it's not your fault," Eros said. "Who is to blame for this?"
“My dear, then I will serve.”
"Dear, then I would like to serve you"
“You must sit down,” says Love, “and taste my meat.”
"Sit down," said Eros, "and savor my gift"
So I did sit and eat.
So I sat down
The Folly of Being Comforted
William Butler Yeats
ONE that is ever kind said yesterday: "Your well beloved's hair has threads of grey, And little shadows come about her eyes; Time can but make it easier to be wise, Though now it seems impossible, and so Patience is all that you have need of ”
Yesterday, a kind person told me: "Your beloved has grey hair and thin shadows around her eyes; time may make your wisdom easier, but for now, It's impossible, so patience is the only thing you need to do"
No,I have not a crumb of comfort ,not a grain;Time can but make her beauty over again,Because of that great nobleness of hers;The fire that stirs about her, when she stirs.Burns but more clearly.
No, I didn't feel any comfort, not at all. Time will restore her beauty, because she is so noble. The flames burning around her became even more scorching as she burned
O she had not these ways, When all the wild Summer was in her gaze.
Oh, she doesn't have those ways. The wildness of summer is all in her gaze
O heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head, You'd know the folly of being comforted.
Oh heart, heart! If she looked back, you'd know how foolish it was to be comforted
Amid all the injustices and inequalities, in all the breakaways and rebellions, love for her begins with a poetic dwelling
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