William Shakespeare "Sonnet 147" lyrics

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Sonnet 147

My love is as a fever, longing stillFor that which longer nurseth the disease,Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,Th’uncertain sickly appetite to please.

My reason, the physician to my love,Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,Hath left me, and I, desperate, now approveDesire is death, which physic did except.

Past cure I am, now reason is past care,And frantic mad with evermore unrest;My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,At random from the truth vainly expressed:

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

Sonetul 147

Iubirea mea nu-i febră pofticioasă,bea ca pe lapte tot ce e durere,râvneşte răul, poftelor se lasăpe care jindul ei bolnav le cere.

Vraciul iubirii ce-o nutresc, gândirea,mâhnindu-se că uit tot ce-mi prescrie,m-a părăsit, zburând spre nicâirea;dorinţa-i moartă, miruri n-o învie.

Sunt fără leac, eşti mută, raţiune,un zbucium veşnic mă afundâ-n spaimă,gândirile, vorbirea-mi sunt nebuneşi adevăruri, inutil, îngaimă...

Aşa-i de te visez, lumină sacrătu, decât iadul infinit mai neagră.

Here one can find the lyrics of the song Sonnet 147 by William Shakespeare. Or Sonnet 147 poem lyrics. William Shakespeare Sonnet 147 text.