Till the sun does not shine and the wind does not blow I must pray fervently for the sake of my soul…. On this eve of all saint’s day I see a disturbing fetish arising amongst the young people of the nearest village. It seems the desire to dress and frolick about in costumes and disguise has become the rage amongst the youth of this village. Certainly I have warned against the following of such ancient witchery yet I see so many people openly in worship of such things. Their costumes disturb me and they do not know the peril they are in. Upon stopping in their company I was dismayed to see such arrogance and display of foolery. Where is there reverence and respect?
I have long been fascinated by Shakespeare’s work one of my favorite sonnet from him is called sonnet 18. This poem has several meanings and as poet and writer myself i am quite intrigued by Shakespeare and how brilliant his work is. Sonnet 18 is my favorite sonnet because it has many metaphors and images through out the poem.
In his poem he describes a man comparing summer to his mistress. He uses description of nature and how they all relate to his affection for this one particular lady. The meaning if the poem is that though the seasons will change and the beauty of summer will be gone it wont fade away completely, but the beauty of the mistress will be seen and remembered just as summer will be remembered.
Shakespeare means that the mistress will not be forgotten as long as there are people who see the beauty of her. Shakespeare is writing about someone who is very much in love and how his mistress is as lovely or even more lovely than a summer’s day. This poem touches me deeply because the words are very strong and they speak for it’s self.
The breeze through the coconut’s tree that makes you sleeps
The diamond sand that touches my feet
Those warm and motherly arms
That gives you wings and a plate for you to eat
You that catch my heart and soul for ever
Until death does it part or until I have you
I will carry you in my heart for ever and ever
Who are you?
You the mother that wouldn’t let go of their kids live
But also the one that wants the best for them
Walkers of the night that will take you alive
You so dark and dangerous that care away many of them
So innocent and pure at the same time
That I get lost over time
O…what have people come to? I am addressing to the three men who dare to extinguish my great master, Prospero and the two who had enough to drink! O, i’ve such a great sense of humor mimicking Trinculo this morning: “Thou liest, most ignorant monster, I am in case to jostle a constable.” Heha. “Ignorant monster” make fun of me will he? It was ever so funny when Stephano and Trinculo fought. I seen their faces.
Anyway, the three are truly men of sin! Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio, you fools! You three dared to draw out your swords at the greatest spirit Ariel? Not on my watch! No one should ever ruin Prospero! I’ve said this before and I’ll say it once more, “the elements of whom your swords are tempered may as well wound the loud winds,…as diminish one dowl that’s in my plume… The powers,…incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures, against your peace…Upon your heads-is nothing but heart’s sorrow and a clear life ensuing.”
O, Prospero, my master, I will serve you until i get my reward!
A spirit bound to one, her lord
With kindness rescued her from sword
Of Strife and Misery
At her behest to loose the bonds
That held her in his murky ponds
His temper did change key
Lest she forget his noble work
The day which he did swiftly jerk
Her wholly from dismay
She would obey him for a time
And one day he would wax sublime
And cut her bonds away
In meantime she his bidding do
With loyalty put things askew
And speak for Trinculo
But they shall not be cut in twain
The three men friends once more again
Another form doth she command
To men whose ill name known by lands
And scare them out of minds
Prospero being lord of this
Where they do find themselves amiss
He knows of their dark kinds
The whim and fancies of Prosper
A twink a beat a soft whisper
The spirit carries out
With naught but rare and subtle pleas
That she might finally be free
And give a wondrous shout
The final trick thus well performed
Prospero pleased, his heart hast warmed
To quite its full extent
To lovely Ariel who waits
He lets her go past house and gates