Lucylures, 2008

Which wounded Bossoms fits

2008, 110 x 150 cm

Like, The humble Salve’ I took this title from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 120, line 12.

Together they can form a diptych.

 

That you were once unkind befriends me now,
And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
For if you were by my unkindness shaken,
As I by yours, you’ve passed a hell of time;
And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
O! that our night of woe might have remembered
My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
And soon to you, as you to me, then tendered
The humble salve, which wounded bossoms fits!
But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
 
William Shakespeare, Sonnet 120
Terug naar overzicht

Like, The humble Salve’ I took this title from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 120, line 12.

Together they can form a diptych.

 

That you were once unkind befriends me now,
And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
For if you were by my unkindness shaken,
As I by yours, you’ve passed a hell of time;
And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
O! that our night of woe might have remembered
My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
And soon to you, as you to me, then tendered
The humble salve, which wounded bossoms fits!
But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
 
William Shakespeare, Sonnet 120

Like, The humble Salve’ I took this title from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 120, line 12.

Together they can form a diptych.

 

That you were once unkind befriends me now,
And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
For if you were by my unkindness shaken,
As I by yours, you’ve passed a hell of time;
And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
O! that our night of woe might have remembered
My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
And soon to you, as you to me, then tendered
The humble salve, which wounded bossoms fits!
But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
 
William Shakespeare, Sonnet 120
Lucylures, 2008

Which wounded Bossoms fits

2008, 110 x 150 cm

Like, The humble Salve’ I took this title from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 120, line 12.

Together they can form a diptych.

 

That you were once unkind befriends me now,
And for that sorrow, which I then did feel,
Needs must I under my transgression bow,
Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
For if you were by my unkindness shaken,
As I by yours, you’ve passed a hell of time;
And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
O! that our night of woe might have remembered
My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
And soon to you, as you to me, then tendered
The humble salve, which wounded bossoms fits!
But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
 
William Shakespeare, Sonnet 120
Terug naar overzicht