Sonnet (from the prortuguese)

Þetta styngur það er svo fallegt…

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 candlelight

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise,

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.

Höf: Elizabeth Barret Browning (1806-1861)



Og síðan sonnetta eftir Shakespeare sem flutt er af kennaranum í 10 things I hate about you (lærði utan af fyrir fyrilestur). Hún er um að elska einhvern sem þú hatar.


In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes.

For they and thee a thousand errors note.

But ‘tis my heart that love what they despise.

Who in the despite of view is pleas’d to dote.