How many will join the Challenge?



Take a look around and get creative - make a video, audio, dance, or sculpture - anything you like!

Contact Nathan: sonnetchallenge [AT] gmail [DOT] com
Showing posts with label rose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rose. Show all posts

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Day 43 - Sonnet #99: personification, flowers, theft, accusations, body, rose

email/feed users: if you don't see videos below, please click on the post title to access the site



The forward violet thus did I chide,
Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
If not from my love's breath? The purple pride
Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells,
In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
The lily I condemned for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair,
The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
One blushing shame, another white despair:
A third nor red, nor white, had stol'n of both,
And to his robbery had annexed thy breath,
But for his theft in pride of all his growth
A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
More flowers I noted, yet I none could see,
But sweet, or colour it had stol'n from thee.

As always - feedback, comments and creativity are welcome!

Friday, August 6, 2010

Day 30 - Sonnet #1

-email/feed users: if you don't see videos below, please click on the post title to access the site-

Welcome to Day #30 and the end of week #10 - very excited to be here and thanks for checking out the Challenge!

I've included a musical interpretation of the sonnet, Geilgud's reading and a couple other people trying it out! All very cool. Thanks for watching and hope you join in the fun!




Musical interpretation:



Sir John Geilgud:



Others having fun:





From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And tender churl mak'st waste in niggarding:
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

As always - feedback, comments and creativity are welcome!