Friday, March 26, 2010

Sonnet 8

I live, I die,. I burn myself and drown.
I am extremely hot in suffering cold:
my life is soft and hardness uncontrolled.
When I am happy, then I ache and frown.
Suddenly I am laughing while I cry
and in my pleasure I endure deep grief:
my joy remains and slips out like a thief.
Suddenly I am blooming and turn dry.
So Love inconstantly leads me in vain
and when I think my sorrow has no end
unthinkingly I find I have no pain.
But when it seems that joy is in my reign
and an ecstatic hour is mine to spend,
He comes and I, in ancient grief, descend.

No comments: