Sonetos de Shakespeare

Los cien sonetos de amor de Neruda han estado siempre entre mis poemas preferidos, esos hermosos versos de madera con que el gran Pablo cantó su amor a Matilde Urrutia. Pues Shakespeare también escribió sonetos de amor. Este que copio aqui es el 138, uno de mis preferidos. Son decasílabos en lugar de las pequeñas casas de catorce tablas de Pablo.

When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.

Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed:

But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O! love's best habit is in seeming trust,

And age in love, loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flattered be.

El siguiente es el soneto 130 que leí por primera vez hace ya unos cuantos años en el libro "Origins of Knowledge and Imagination" de Jacobo Bronowski. Allí el autor coloca como ejemplo este soneto para destacar ls subjetividad conque percibimos el mundo a través de nuestros sentidos. Es realmente hermoso:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.

Mi pequeño tributo a William Shakespeare.