Sonnets from the Portuguese (XLIII) - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Sonnets from the Portuguese (XLIII) - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Desire - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Where true Love burns Desire is Love's pure flame;
It is the reflex of our earthly frame,
That takes its meaning from the nobler part,
And but translates the language of the heart.

Desire - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Tus pies - Pablo Neruda

Cuando no puedo mirar tu cara
miro tus pies.

Tus pies de hueso arqueado,
tus pequeños pies duros.

Yo se que to sostienen,
y que tu dulce peso
sobre ellos se levanta.

Tu cintura y tus pechos,
la duplicada pu'rpura
de tus pezones,
la caja de tus ojos
que recien han volado,
tu ancha boca de fruta,
tu cabellera roja,
pequeña torre mía.

Pero no amo tus pies
sino porque anduvieron
sobre la tierra y sobre
el viento y sobre el agua,
hasta que me encontraron.

Tus pies - Pablo Neruda

One Day I Wrote Her Name upon the Strand - Edmund Spenser

One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
  But came the waves and washed it away:
  Again I wrote it with a second hand,
  But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.
'Vain man,' said she, 'that dost in vain assay
  A mortal thing so to immortalize,
  For I myself shall like to this decay
  And eke my name be wiped out likewise.'
'Not so,' quod I, 'let baser things devise
  To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
  My verse your virtues rare shall eternize,
  And in the heavens write your glorious name,
Where, whenas Death shall all the world subdue,
  Our love shall live, and later life renew.'

One Day I Wrote Her Name upon the Strand - Edmund Spenser

Pensamentos - (I) Promessa

No dia, ou até no momento preciso, em que te apercebeste do que eu sentia por ti, disse-te que quando se ama alguém, essa pessoa torna-se o centro do nosso mundo, e que o seu bem estar se sobrepõe ao nosso.

Penso nisso muitas vezes, amor, e acho que tu percebeste (senão no momento, pelo menos nos meus actos ao longo do nosso tempo juntos) o quanto eu quero ou, mais ainda, preciso, acima de tudo na vida, que tu estejas bem. Mudaria o mundo e virá-lo-ia às avessas por ti. Pela tua felicidade. Por um sorriso teu.

Quero que cada momento da tua vida seja de alegria e que te sintas como uma Rainha. Pois é como uma Rainha que eu te quero tratar, meu amor, fazendo de ti o ser mais feliz do mundo, celebrando e piando contigo nos melhores momentos e segurando-te nos meus braços nos momentos menos bons, como um rochedo (porque sou o teu rochedo), e proteger-te.

Quero que nunca mais sintas qualquer incerteza ou mágoa na vida, enquanto navegamos juntos num mar de tranquilidade e felicidade. O meu amor está contigo, sempre (Amo-te tanto! Nunca me irei cansar de to dizer). Estou e estarei sempre sempre sempre a teu lado.

Sempre - prometo.

Come live with me and be my love - Christopher Marlowe

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

Come live with me and be my love - Christopher Marlowe

Love's Philosophy - Percy Bysshe Shelley

The fountains mingle with the river
  And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix forever
  With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
  All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
  Why not I with thine? -

See the mountains kiss high Heaven
  And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
  If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
  And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
  If thou kiss not me?

Love's Philosophy - Percy Bysshe Shelley

Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal - Lord Tennyson

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me. Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.

Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal - Lord Tennyson

Ode para um café num Sábado - Ana Salomé

abri o livro
tinha Bach dentro
e pude ver-te como uma espera
numa mesa do café
as rosas na cadeira
de gola alta
a entenderes-te com um poema
que não falava ainda sobre mim.

fechei o livro
pude ver-te a fechá-lo também
num breve olhar para a rua.

nesse dia eu levava
um vestido de veludo vermelho
que não tinha ainda nenhum vinco
dos teus abraços.

acho que não me viste
mas as pombas tombaram de amor
do telhados da cidade.

Ode para um café num Sábado - Ana Salomé (in Odes, 2008)

Beauty - John Masefield

Have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills
Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain:
I have seen the lady April bringing in the daffodils,
Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain.

I have heard the song of the blossoms and the old chant of the sea,
And seen strange lands from under the arched white sails of ships;
But the loveliest things of beauty God ever has showed to me
Are her voice, and her hair, and eyes, and the dear red curve of her lips.

Beauty - John Masefield

The Good-Morrow - John Donne

I wonder by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved ? were we not wean'd till then ?
But suck'd on country pleasures, childishly ?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers' den ?
'Twas so ; but this, all pleasures fancies be ;
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.

And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear ;
For love all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone ;
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown ;
Let us possess one world ; each hath one, and is one.

My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest ;
Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp north, without declining west ?
Whatever dies, was not mix'd equally ;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I
Love so alike that none can slacken, none can die.

The Good-Morrow - John Donne

Tus Manos - Pablo Neruda

Cuando tus manos salen,
amor, hacia las mías,
¿qué me traen volando?
¿Por qué se detuvieron
en mi boca, de pronto,
por qué las reconozco
como si entonces, antes,
las hubiera tocado,
como si antes de ser
hubieran recorrido
mi frente, mi cintura?

Su suavidad venía
volando sobre el tiempo,
sobre el mar, sobre el humo,
sobre la primavera,
y cuando tú pusiste
tus manos en mi pecho,
reconocí esas alas
de paloma dorada,
reconocí esa greda
y ese color de trigo.

Los años de mi vida
yo caminé buscándolas.
Subí las escaleras,
crucé los arrecifes,
me llevaron los trenes
las aguas me trajeron,
y en la piel de las uvas
me pareció tocarte.

La madera de pronto
me trajo tu contacto,
la almendra me anunciaba
tu suavidad secreta,
hasta que se cerraron
tus manos en mi pecho
y allí como dos alas
terminaron su viaje.

Tus Manos - Pablo Neruda

Prevejo - Joaquim Brandão

Prevejo
Que encostes a tua face
No meu ombro.

Que sorrias
E me beijes
Que sejas a onda do Mar
Que o rio vem saudar.

O amor ao encontro da paixão
Misturando-se
Num oceano de felicidade.

Nós os dois
Num só destino!

Prevejo - Joaquim Brandão (in O Poeta a Pensar, 2006)

I Am He that Aches with Love - Walt Whitman

I am he that aches with amorous love;
Does the earth gravitate? Does not all matter, aching,
  attract all matter?
So the body of me to all I meet or know.

I Am He that Aches with Love - Walt Whitman

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day? - William Shakespeare

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 wand'rest 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.

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day? - William Shakespeare

My True Love Has My Heart - Philip Sidney

My true-love hath my heart and I have his,
By just exchange one for the other given;
I hold his dear and mine he cannot miss;
There never was a better bargain driven.
My true-love hath my heart and I have his,

His heart in me keeps him and me in one;
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides;
He loves my heart for once it was his own,
I cherish his because in me it bides.
My true-love hath my heart and I have his,

My True Love Has My Heart - Philip Sidney

She walks in beauty - Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade more, one ray less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!


She walks in beauty - Lord Byron

Her Triumph - Ben Jonson

See the chariot at hand here of Love,
Wherein my lady rideth!
Each that draws is a swan or a dove,
And well the car Love guideth.
As she goes, all hearts do duty
Unto her beauty;
And enamour'd, do wish, so they might
But enjoy such a sight,
That they still were to run by her side,
Through swords, through seas, whither she would ride.

Do but look on her eyes, they do light
All that Love's world compriseth!
Do but look on her hair, it is bright
As Love's star when it riseth!
Do but mark, her forehead's smoother
Than words that soothe her;
And from her arched brows, such a grace
Sheds itself through the face
As alone there triumphs to the life
All the gain, all the good, of the elements' strife.

Have you seen but a bright lily grow,
Before rude hands have touch'd it?
Ha' you mark'd but the fall o' the snow
Before the soil hath smutch'd it?
Ha' you felt the wool o' the beaver?
Or swan's down ever?
Or have smelt o' the bud o' the briar?
Or the nard in the fire?
Or have tasted the bag of the bee?
Oh so white! Oh so soft! Oh so sweet is she!

Her Triumph - Ben Jonson

Wondrous Moment - Alexander Pushkin

The wondrous moment of our meeting...
I well remember you appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty's angel pure and clear.

In hopeless ennui surrounding
The worldly bustle, to my ear
For long your tender voice kept sounding,
For long in dreams came features dear.

Time passed. Unruly storms confounded
Old dreams, and I from year to year
Forgot how tender you had sounded,
Your heavenly features once so dear.

My backwoods days dragged slow and quiet—
Dull fence around, dark vault above—
Devoid of God and uninspired,
Devoid of tears, of fire, of love.

Sleep from my soul began retreating,
And here you once again appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty's angel pure and clear.

In ecstasy the heart is beating,
Old joys for it anew revive;
Inspired and God-filled, it is greeting
The fire, and tears, and love alive.

Wondrous Moment - Alexander Pushkin

To Althea, from Prison - Richard Lovelace

When love with unconfined wings
   Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
   To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair
   And fettered to her eye,
The birds that wanton in the air
   Know no such liberty.

When flowing cups run swiftly round
   With no allaying Thames,
Our careless heads with roses bound,
   Our hearts with loyal flames;
When thirst grief in wine we steep,
   When healths and draughts go free,
Fishes that tipple in the deep
   Know no such liberty.

Stone walls do not a prison make,
   Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
   That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,
   And in my soul am free,
Angels alone, that soar above,
   Enjoy such liberty.

To Althea, from Prison - Richard Lovelace

There is a Lady Sweet and Kind - Thomas Ford

There is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never face so pleas'd my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I love her till I die.

Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,
Her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles,
Beguiles my heart, I know not why,
And yet I love her till I die.

Her free behaviour, winning looks,
Will make a lawyer burn his books;
I touch'd her not, alas! not I,
And yet I love her till I die.

Had I her fast betwixt mine arms,
Judge you that think such sports were harms,
Were't any harm? no, no, fie, fie,
For I will love her till I die.

Should I remain confined there
So long as Phœbus in his sphere,
I to request, she to deny,
Yet would I love her till I die.

Cupid is winged and doth range,
Her country so my love doth change:
But change she earth, or change she sky,
Yet will I love her till I die.


There is a Lady Sweet and Kind - Thomas Ford

Did Not - Thomas Moore

'Twas a new feeling - something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.

She felt my lips' impassioned touch -
'Twas the first time I dared so much,
And yet she chid not;
But whispered o'er my burning brow,
'Oh, do you doubt I love you now?'
Sweet soul! I did not.

Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I pressed it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not;
Till - oh! the world hath seldom heard
Of lovers, who so nearly erred,
And yet, who did not.

Did Not - Thomas Moore

Blue and White - Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

Blue is Our Lady's colour,
...White is Our Lord's.
To-morrow I will wear a knot
...Of blue and white cords,
That you may see it, where you ride
...Among the flashing swords.

O banner, white and sunny blue,
...With prayer I wove thee!
For love the white, for faith the heavenly hue,
And both for him, so tender-true,
...Him that doth love me!

Blue and White - Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

Love - Robert Browning

So, the year's done with
(Love me for ever!)
All March begun with,
April's endeavour;
May-wreaths that bound me
June needs must sever;
Now snows fall round me,
Quenching June's fever...
(Love me for ever!)

Love - Robert Browning

I have no life but this - Emily Dickinson

I have no life but this,
To lead it here;
Nor any death, but lest
Dispelled from there;

Nor tie to earths to come,
Nor action new,
Except through this extent,
The realm of you.

I have no life but this - Emily Dickinson

I Carry Your Heart with Me - E. E. Cummings

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in
my heart) I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)

I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)

I Carry Your Heart with Me - E. E. Cummings

He Tells Of The Perfect Beauty – W.B.Yeats

O cloud-pale eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,
The poets labouring all their days
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme
Are overthrown by a woman’s gaze
And by the unlabouring brood of the skies:
And therefore my heart will bow, when dew
Is dropping sleep, until God burn time,
Before the unlabouring stars and you.


He Tells Of The Perfect Beauty – W.B.Yeats (in The Wind Among The Reeds)

Gitanjali (poem LIX) – Rabindranath Tagore

Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy love, O beloved of my heart – this golden light that dances upon the leaves, these idle clouds sailing across the sky, this passing breeze leaving its coolness upon my forehead.

The morning light has flooded my eyes – this is thy message to my heart. Thy face is bent from above, thy eyes look down on my eyes, and my heart has touched thy feet.

Gitanjali (Song Offerings), poem LIX – Rabindranath Tagore

The Mystic Trumpeter – Walt Whitman

Love, that is all the earth to lovers — love, that mocks time and space,
Love, that is day and night — love, that is sun and moon and stars,
Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume,
No other words but words of love, no other thought but love.

The Mystic Trumpeter – Walt Whitman (in Leaves of Grass)