I’m continuing to enjoy poetry month, and looking back at my thoughts on Thomas Wyatt’s sonnets. here is what I wrote a while ago:
I wonder if the tens of thousands of years ago that people first had speech similar to the type of communications we have now, and they started telling stories if the themes were the same… I’m sure they were… quests, hunts, family, the world around them, fear of disaster and the unknown, love for others, and I wonder if the aspects of love our tales our full of would be the same… true love, betrayal, love for another, unrequited love, the pain and the joy of love…
Here is Sir Thomas Wyatt, telling a story familiar to us all… “I love another…”
I Find No Peace
I find no peace, and all my war is done.
I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice.
I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise;
And nought I have, and all the world I season.
That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison
And holdeth me not–yet can I scape no wise–
Nor letteth me live nor die at my device,
And yet of death it giveth me occasion.
Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain.
I desire to perish, and yet I ask health.
I love another, and thus I hate myself.
I feed me in sorrow and laugh in all my pain;
Likewise displeaseth me both life and death,
And my delight is causer of this strife.