As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, No;
So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, no sigh-tempests move,
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.
Moving of th' eath brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did and meant;
But trepidation of the shperes,
Though greater far, is innocent.
Dull sublunary lovers' love
(Whoes soul is sense) canno admit
Abesnce, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.
But we by a love so much refined
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.
Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to airy thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so
As still twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.
And though it in the center sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
"A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning," by John Donne
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For some reason I found that poem to be interesting. I find most poems to be dull but this one just stands out...I don't know why, it just does.
I've been feeling very melodramatic today. I've been thrown off the merry-go-round.
I want back on, please.
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Stupid-no-Jutsu : The art of being stupid.
Finally released in a totally unabridged format.
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