Σάββατο, 25 Αυγούστου 2012




THE GOOD-MORROW John Donne

 I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
 Did, till we loved? were we not wean'd till then?
 But suck'd on country pleasures, childishly?
 Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers' den?
 'Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be;
 If ever any beauty I did see,
 Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.

 And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
 Which watch not one another out of fear;
 For love all love of other sights controls,
 And makes one little room an everywhere.
 Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone;
 Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown;
 Let us possess one world; each hath one, and is one.

 My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
 And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
 Where can we find two better hemispheres
 Without sharp north, without declining west?
 Whatever dies, was not mix'd equally;
 If our two loves be one, or thou and I
 Love so alike that non can slacken, none can die.

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