Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? All the bookworms must have heard this sentence before. In comparison with the plays I used to read. This time, I want to share three sonnets by William Shakespeare and hope to explore them with you guys. Enjoy!
In addition to being a playwright, Shakespeare was a poet as well. He wrote quite a few sonnets during his life. A sonnet is a form of poetry composed of fourteen lines, which follows a specific rhythmic structure and has strong musicality. It's generally used to express emotions or profound ideas artistically. Let us start with sonnet 18.
Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
From early summer to late summer, Shakespeare uses the changing seasons as a metaphor for different stages of life. However, youth is as unpredictable and fleeting as a Mayday, rough winds shake the darling buds of May, and the sun may shine too brightly or vanish altogether. In contrast, the beauty of “thee”which means "you" is more constant and enduring than nature itself.
"But thy eternal summer shall not fade" because you have already lived within these words. As long as this sonnet is read, you will never be forgotten. Though it seems to be praising a person, the poem also reveals the enduring power of words. Literature against time and mortality. Shakespeare is not merely writing about love, he is also telling us: As long as my words exist, so will you.
Sonnet 87
Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou knowst thy estimate;
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift upon misprision growing
Comes home again, on better judgment making.
Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter,
In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.
From the very beginning—"Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing" This line captures the feeling of unworthiness in love. Even in todays relationships, we sometimes can't help but feel that the person we love shines too brightly, making us feel small in comparison. That subtle sense of inferiority is perfectly expressed in Sonnet 87. Shakespeare reveals his inner conflict, a painful powerlessness. He longs to love this person, but at the same time, feels himself unworthy of their love. And the final couplet gives us a sense that the love between them is, as we say in Chinese, "黃粱一夢", a beautiful illusion, fleeting like a dream. When he wakes, the dream is gone. He once had this person, if only for a moment, but now he has let them go.
Sonnet 147
My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease;
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,
At random from the truth vainly express'd;
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
Shakespeare uses illness as a metaphor for love, showing how this relationship makes him irrational, almost to the point of madness. And yet, he cannot pull himself away.
"My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept…"
Here, Shakespeare brilliantly compares reason to a doctor, and love to a disease. Though reason tries to cure him with advice like a prescription, but it fails. His obsession runs too deep. The one he once admired, who seemed like an angel, turns out to be a devil in disguise. He admits how foolish he was, but now, at last, he sees clearly.
Sonnet 147 lacks the elegance of the previous two. Instead, it's the anger and lucidity that come after an emotional collapse. Shakespeare no longer speaks of eternity, nor does he humble himself. This time, he writes with bitterness, disappointment, and a touch of madness.
When read together, these three sonnets seem to trace the psychological journey of falling in love: from idealization, to loss, to collapse. The tone goes from light to dark, confident to vulnerable, and finally even crazy. Shakespeare shows us that love is not only sweet; love can be painful, chaotic and destructive. Through these sonnets, allow us to catch a glimpse of Shakespeare's emotion towards love, and his inner struggles as a human being. Love in his poems is never a single color, but a whole spectrum, from tenderness to madness, each one is so real that resonates with us.
