Power of the Bard

I know when I’ve heard or read a lovely poem. It makes me feel emotional and brings up feelings I don’t normally experience. Shakespeare makes me feel like language and words have power and emotion.

William Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet and actor. He is widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language. He is often called England’s national poet and the “Bard of Avon” or simply “the Bard.” His works, including collaborations, consist of some 39 plays, 154 sonnets, three long narrative poems and a few other verses, some of uncertain authorship. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than those of any other playwright.

Recently, I’ve looked up two Shakespeare poems that speak to me. I’ve heard them in movies 0r TV series.

Shakespeare Sonnet 116: Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments; love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wand’ring bark

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle’s compass come.

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom:

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Additionally, this poem is from another sh0w.

Title: “Fear no more the heat o’ the sun”

Shakespeare (from Cymbeline)

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,

Nor the furious winter’s rages;

Thou thy worldly task hast done,

Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages:

Golden lads and girls all must,

As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o’ the great;

Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;

Care no more to clothe and eat;

To thee the reed is as the oak:

The scepter, learning, physic, must

All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning flash,

Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone;

Fear not slander, censure rash;

Thou hast finished joy and moan:

All lovers young, all lovers must

Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!

Nor no witchcraft charm thee!

Ghost unlaid forbear thee!

Nothing ill come near thee!

Quiet consummation have;

And renownèd be thy grave!

Author: Bridget Zappa Hahn

Women's Life & Transformation Coach View all posts by Bridget Zappa Hahn

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