Iubita mea ce suge bile prin furtun
Monday, 30 April, Year 4 d.Tr. | Author: Mircea Popescu
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Ochii iubitei mele nu sageteaza ca din tun
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
Coralu-i rosu si-a ei gura nu-i
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
Daca zapada-i alba tenul ei e brun
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
Nici par de sirma n-are-n bobina capului.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
Vazut-am roze albe, rosii-or roz,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
D-al ei obraz e mai aproape de moloz
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Exista chiar parfumuri cu miros mai bun
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
Decit ce rigiie dupa un abundent dejun
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
Imi place s-o aud vorbind, da' clar sa fie
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
Ca muzica oricare duce mai multa melodie
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
Si chiar de n-am vazut zeite-n drum
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
Gagica mea nici ca pluteste ca un fum
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
Si totusi, Trompizau, ma jur
As any she belied with false compare.
E tare bine cind i-o bag in cur.
Parerea mea.
Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte
