#sonnet 90

[cultofroslin]

Petrarch, Sonnet 90 Monica Guerritore as Gabriella de Rosa | Inganno / Deceitful Love S1E1

[eosphoroz]

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, And do not drop in for an after-loss: Ah! do not, when my heart hath ‘scaped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purposed overthrow. If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite, But in the onset come: so shall I taste At first the very worst of fortune’s might; And other strains of woe, which now seem woe, Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so. — William Shakespeare, Sonnet 90

[poetobservationz]

[theshakespearesonnets]

Sonnet 90: Then Hate Me When Thou Wilt; If Ever, Now

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, And do not drop in for an after-loss: Ah! do not, when my heart hath ‘scaped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purposed overthrow. If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite, But in the onset come: so shall I taste At first the very worst of fortune’s might; And other strains of woe, which now seem woe, Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.

Translation to modern English

So hate me whenever it pleases you, but if you are going to, do it now – now while the world is determined to frustrate all my actions. Join with the spitefulness of Fortune, make me bow under the burden, but don’t come and bite me from behind just when I’ve got over this particular blow. Don’t be a rainy morning after a stormy night, drawing out the defeat that you’re determined to impose on me. If you’re going to go, don’t leave it to the end, when other small sorrows have done their worst but do it at the beginning so that I’ll experience the very worst misfortune first. Then other painful things that are hurting now won’t seem so bad compared with the loss of you.

[poetobservationz]

Sonnet 90 William Shakespeare

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 90 by William Shakespeare (read by Nathan Stewart-Jarrett)

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, And do not drop in for an after-loss:

Ah! do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purposed overthrow.

If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite, But in the onset come: so shall I taste At first the very worst of fortune's might;

   And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,    Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.

Source:  thesonnets.tv

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 89 and 90 by William Shakespeare (read by Sir Patrick Stewart)

Sonnet 89

Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, And I will comment upon that offence: Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt, Against thy reasons making no defence.

Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill, To set a form upon desired change, As I'll myself disgrace; knowing thy will, I will acquaintance strangle, and look strange;

Be absent from thy walks; and in my tongue Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell, Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong, And haply of our old acquaintance tell.

   For thee, against my self I'll vow debate,    For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate.

Sonnet 90

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, And do not drop in for an after-loss:

Ah! do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purposed overthrow.

If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite, But in the onset come: so shall I taste At first the very worst of fortune's might;

   And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,    Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.

[crossword-typo]

Haha yeah right “Friend”. William Shakespeare was totally straight