John Donne

“Away thou fondling motley humorist, Leave mee, and in this standing woodden chest, Consorted with these few bookes, let me lye In prison, and here be coffin'd, when I dye; Here are Gods conduits, grave Divines; and here Natures Secretary, the Philosopher; And jolly Statesmen, which teach how to tie The sinewes of a cities mistique bodie; Here gathering Chroniclers, and by them stand Giddie fantastique Poets of each land. Shall I leave all this constant company, And follow headlong, wild uncertaine thee?”

“As virtuous men pass mildly awayAnd whisper to their souls, to goe,While some of their friends doe say,The breath goes now, and some say, no:So let us melt, and make no noise...”

“زیرا من همه آن چیزهای مرده‌ام.آنکه در او عشق کیمیای جدیدی آفرید.زیرا هنرش براستیعصاره‌ی نیستی را بیان می‌کرد،از دل محرومیتهای ملال‌آور و پوچی نزار:او مرا تباه کرد، و من باز زاده شدماز دل غیبت، تاریکی، مرگ؛ چیزهایی که نیستند.”

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so.”

“Thy firmness makes my circle just,and makes me end where I begun.”

“O! I shall soon despair, when I shall seeThat Thou lovest mankind well, yet wilt not choose me,And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.”

“Doubt wisely; in strange wayTo stand inquiring right, is not to stray;To sleep, or run wrong, is.”

“But, O alas! so long, so far,Our bodies why do we forbear?”

“One short sleep past, we wake eternally, and Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die.”

“He that desires to print a book, should much more desire, to be a book.”

“Only our love hath no decay; This no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday, Running it never runs from us away, But truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day.”

“Thy sins and hairs may no man equal call,for as thy sins increase, thy hairs do fall.”

“Go and catch a falling star,Get with child a mandrake root,Tell me where all past years are,Or who cleft the Devil's foot,Teach me to hear mermaids singing,Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find What windServes to advance an honest mind.If thou be'st born to strange sights,Things invisible to see,Ride ten thousand days and nights,Till Age snow white hairs on thee,Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me,All strange wonders that befell thee, And swear, No whereLives a woman true and fair.”

“Here lies a she sun, and a he moon there;She gives the best light to his sphere;Or each is both, and all, and soThey unto one another nothing owe;And yet they do, but areSo just and rich in that coin which they pay,That neither would, nor needs forbear, nor stay;Neither desires to be spared nor to spare.They quickly pay their debt, and thenTake no acquittances, but pay again;They pay, they give, they lend, and so let fallNo such occasion to be liberal.More truth, more courage in these two do shine,Than all thy turtles have and sparrows, Valentine.”

“A bride, before a "Good-night" could be said,Should vanish from her clothes into her bed,As souls from bodies steal, and are not spied.But now she's laid; what though she be?Yet there are more delays, for where is he?He comes and passeth through sphere after sphere;First her sheets, then her arms, then anywhere.Let not this day, then, but this night be thine;Thy day was but the eve to this, O Valentine.”

“Up then, fair phoenix bride, frustrate the sun;Thyself from thine affectionTakest warmth enough, and from thine eyeAll lesser birds will take their jollity.Up, up, fair bride, and callThy stars from out their several boxes, takeThy rubies, pearls, and diamonds forth, and makeThyself a constellation of them all;And by their blazing signifyThat a great princess falls, but doth not die.Be thou a new star, that to us portendsEnds of much wonder; and be thou those ends.”

“For this, Love is enraged with me; Yet kills not. If I must example beTo future rebels, if the unborn Must learn by my being cut up and torn,Kill and dissect me, Love; for thisTorture against thine own end is:Racked carcasses make ill anatomies”

“Changed loves are but changed sorts of meat,And when he hath the kernel eat,Who doth not fling away the shell?”

“If our two loves be one, or, thou and I Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.”

“If ever any beauty I did see,Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.”

“I am a little world made cunningly.”

“Mark but this flea, and mark in this, How little that which thou deniest me is; Me it sucked first, and now sucks thee, And in this flea our two bloods mingled be; Thou know’st that this cannot be said A sin, or shame, or loss of maidenhead, Yet this enjoys before it woo, And pampered swells with one blood made of two, And this, alas, is more than we would do. Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare, Where we almost, nay more than married are. This flea is you and I, and this Our mariage bed and mariage temple is; Though parents grudge, and you, we are met, And cloisterd in these living walls of jet. Though use make you apt to kill me, Let not to that, self-murder added be, And sacrilege, three sins in killing three. Cruel and sudden, hast thou since Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence? Wherein could this flea guilty be, Except in that drop which it sucked from thee? Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now; ’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be: Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me, Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.”

“SongGo, and catch a falling star,Get with child a mandrake root,Tell me, where all past years are,Or who cleft the Devil’s foot,Teach me to hear mermaids singing,Or to keep off envy’s stinging,And findWhat windServes to advance an honest mind.If thou be’est born to strange sights,Things invisible to see,Ride ten thousand days and nights,Till age snow white hairs on thee,Thou, when thou return’st, wilt tell meAll strange wonders that befell thee,And swearNowhereLives a woman true, and fair.If thou find’st one, let me know,Such a pilgrimage were sweet,Yet do not, I would not go,Though at next door we might meet,Though she were true when you met her,And last, till you write your letter,Yet sheWill beFalse, ere I come, to two, or three.”

“BUSY old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus,Through windows, and through curtains, call on us? Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run ? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late school-boys and sour prentices, Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices ;Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.”

“To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.”

“Love's mysteries in souls do grow,But yet the body is his book.”

“Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.”

“Come live with me, and be my love,And we will some new pleasures proveOf golden sands, and crystal brooks,With silken lines, and silver hooks.”

“I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so In whining poetry;But where's that wiseman, that would not be I, If she would not deny?Then as th' earth's inward narrow crooked lanes Do purge sea water's fretful salt away,I thought, if I could draw my pains Through rhyme's vexation, I should them allay.Grief brought to numbers cannot be so fierce,For he tames it, that fetters it in verse. But when I have done so, Some man, his art and voice to show, Doth set and sing my pain;And, by delighting many, frees again Grief, which verse did restrain.To love and grief tribute of verse belongs, But not of such as pleases when 'tis read.Both are increased by such songs, For both their triumphs so are published,And I, which was two fools, do so grow three;Who are a little wise, the best fools be.”

“...but come bad chanceAnd wee joyne to it our strengthAnd wee teach it art and lengthIt selfe o'er us to advance.”

“My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares, And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest, Where can we finde two better hemispheares Without sharpe North, without declining West? What ever dyes, was not mixt equally; If our two loves be one, or, thou and I Love so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.”

“This is joy's bonfire, then, where love's strong artsMake of so noble individual partsOne fire of four inflaming eyes, and of two loving hearts.”

“True and false fears let us refrain, Let us love nobly, and live, and add again Years and years unto years, till we attain To write threescore: this is the second of our reign.”

“Let us love nobly, and live, and add again Years and years unto years, till we attain To write threescore: this is the second of our reignLove was as subtly catched, as a disease; But being got it is a treasure sweet, Which to defend is harder than to get: And ought not be profaned on either part, For though 'tis got by chance,'tis kept by art”

“Reason is our soul's left hand, Faith her right, By these we reach divinity”

“Death, thou shalt die.”

“All measure, and all language, I should pass,Should I tell what a miracle she was.”

“Ve y coge una estrella fugaz;fecunda a la raíz de mandrágora;dime dónde está el pasado,o quién hendió la pezuña del diablo;enséñame a oír cómo canta la sirena,a apartar el aguijón de la envidia,y descubrecual es el vientoque impulsa a una mente honesta.Si has nacido para ver cosas extrañas,cosas invisibles al ojo,cabalga diez mil días y nocheshasta que la edad cubra de nieve tus cabellos.Cuando retornes, me contaráslas extrañas maravillas que te acontecieron,y jurarásque en ningún lugarvive una mujer justa y constante.Si la encuentras, dímelo,¡dulce peregrinación sería!Pero no, porque no iría,aunque fuera justo al lado;aunque fiel, al encontrarla,y hasta al escribir la carta,sin embargo,antes que fuera,infiel con dos, o tres, fuera.”

“Let not thy divining heartForethink me any ill;Destiny may take thy part,And may thy fears fulfill.”

“Death is an ascension to a better library. ”

“To know and feel all this and not have the words to express it makes a human a grave of his own thoughts.”

“That soul that can reflect upon itself, consider itself, is more than so.”

“Busie olde foole, unruly Sunne; Why dost thou thus,Through windowes, and through curtaines call on us?Must to they motions lovers seasons run? Sawcy pedantique wretch, goe chide Late schoole boyes, and sowre prentices, Goe tell Court-huntsmen, that the King will ride, Call countrey ands to harvest offices;Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clyme,Nor houres, dayes, months, which are the rags of time. Thy beames, so reverend, and strong Why shouldst thou thinke?I could eclipse and cloud them with a winke,But that I would not lose her sight so long: If her eyes have not blinded thine Looke, and tomorrow late, tell mee, Whether both the India's of spice and Myne Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with mee.Aske for those Kings whom thou saw'st yesterday,And thou shalt heare, All here in one bed lay. She'is all States, and all Princes, I, Nothing else is; Princes doe but play us; compar'd to this,All honor's mimique; All wealth alchimie, Thou sunne art halfe as happy'as wee, In that the world's contracted thus; Thine ages askes ease, and since thy duties bee To warme the world, that's done in warming us.Shine here to us, and thou art every where;This bed thy center is, these walls, thy spheare.”

“All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated... As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all... No man is an island, entire of itself... any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

“Licence my roving hands, and let them go Before, behind, between, above, below.”

“Our two souls therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to aery thinness beat. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two ; Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if th' other do. And though it in the centre 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.”

“The Good-MorrowI wonder by my troth, what thou, and IDid, till we lov'd? Were we not wean'd till then?But suck'd on countrey pleasures, childishly?Or snorted we in the seaven sleepers den?T'was so; But this, all pleasures fancies bee.If ever any beauty I did see,Which I desir'd, and got, 'twas but a dreame of thee.And now good morrow to our waking soules,Which watch not one another out of feare;For love, all love of other sights controules,And makes one little roome, an every where.Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,Let Maps to other, worlds on worlds have showne,Let us possesse one world; each hath one, and is one.My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares,And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest,Where can we finde two better hemisphearesWithout sharpe North, without declining West?What ever dyes, was not mixed equally;If our two loves be one, or, thou and ILove so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.”

“And to 'scape stormy days, I choose an everlasting night.”

“Filled with her love, may I be rather grownMad with much heart, then idiot with none.”

“At the round earth's imagined corners blowYour trumpets, angels, and arise, ariseFrom death, you numberless infinitiesOf souls, and to your scattered bodies go ;All whom the flood did, and fire shall o'erthrow,All whom war, dea[r]th, age, agues, tyrannies,Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you, whose eyesShall behold God, and never taste death's woe.But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space ;For, if above all these my sins abound,'Tis late to ask abundance of Thy grace,When we are there. Here on this lowly ground,Teach me how to repent, for that's as goodAs if Thou hadst seal'd my pardon with Thy blood. ”