Showing posts with label Passion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Passion. Show all posts
Where Are You - Ben Heine Music
Ben Heine's latest music composition/production "Where Are You" featuring singer Dominika Timoszuk is a passionate love song that is perfect to share between lovers on Saint Valentine's Day. Listen to the track on Soundcloud here under. Watch the clip on YouTube here above. Music composition, lyrics and production: © 2016 Ben Heine
Lyrics: Where Are You
I found you
I saw you
I touched you
I Love you
Where are you now
You disappeared again
I show you
I hold you
miss you
I kiss you
I know you
I hug you
I like you
I love you
Your name is in my soul.
Can you hear my distant call?
Stay with me take my hand
Let's become more than friends
I'll show you All the things
We can do Together
You have to follow me
Cause this is our destiny
Where are you
Wait for me
Do you feel
Like I feel
Everywhere
We will go
Our passion
Will follow
Where are you now
You disappeared again
Artist Ben Heine Talks About his Passion for Music
Multi-disciplinary artist Ben Heine talks about his passion for piano and music production. Interview conducted by Nicolas Debatty for MaTele
L'artiste pluri-disciplinaire Ben Heine explique sa passion pour la musique. Interview réalisée par Nicolas Debatty pour MaTele
A picture I took at the Metropole Hotel in Brussels in the frame of the "Tour De France Photo". A great event!! The model on the left side, Alizée, is pregnant... Magic (thanks to Eric for making the shooting with Alizée possible). You can view some preparatory and backstage pics here below...
Models: Alizée Poulicek & Coralie Nelly
Hair Styling: Alain Spaens by Joseph
Master Makeup Artist: Avital Assayag
Fashion Design: Erika Bùs
Photography (+editing): Ben Heine
Location: Metropole Hotel
Hair Styling: Alain Spaens by Joseph
Master Makeup Artist: Avital Assayag
Fashion Design: Erika Bùs
Photography (+editing): Ben Heine
Location: Metropole Hotel
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Marilyn Monroe's portrait made with thousands of flat circles (each circle was placed individually on a black background). It took me almost one week of intense work... Please see 3 details below. I love Marilyn, I think she was one of the most sensual women in the world.
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Details:
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I N V I N C I B L E
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© 2009 - Ben Heine
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One of my portraits of the King... RIP
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We Had Him
By Maya Angelou (*)
Beloveds, now we know that we know nothing, now that our bright and shining star can slip away from our fingertips like a puff of summer wind.
Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace. Sing our songs among the stars and walk our dances across the face of the moon.
In the instant that Michael is gone, we know nothing. No clocks can tell time. No oceans can rush our tides with the abrupt absence of our treasure.
Though we are many, each of us is achingly alone, piercingly alone.
Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him.
He came to us from the creator, trailing creativity in abundance.
Despite the anguish, his life was sheathed in mother love, family love, and survived and did more than that.
He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style. We had him whether we know who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his.
We had him, beautiful, delighting our eyes.
His hat, aslant over his brow, and took a pose on his toes for all of us.
And we laughed and stomped our feet for him.
We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing. He gave us all he had been given.
Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana's Black Star Square.
In Johannesburg and Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama, and Birmingham, England
We are missing Michael.
But we do know we had him, and we are the world.
Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace. Sing our songs among the stars and walk our dances across the face of the moon.
In the instant that Michael is gone, we know nothing. No clocks can tell time. No oceans can rush our tides with the abrupt absence of our treasure.
Though we are many, each of us is achingly alone, piercingly alone.
Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him.
He came to us from the creator, trailing creativity in abundance.
Despite the anguish, his life was sheathed in mother love, family love, and survived and did more than that.
He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style. We had him whether we know who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his.
We had him, beautiful, delighting our eyes.
His hat, aslant over his brow, and took a pose on his toes for all of us.
And we laughed and stomped our feet for him.
We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing. He gave us all he had been given.
Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana's Black Star Square.
In Johannesburg and Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama, and Birmingham, England
We are missing Michael.
But we do know we had him, and we are the world.
---------------
(*) Dr. Maya Angelou is an American poet born in 1928. She is known as one of the great voices of contemporary literature. As a poet, educator, historian, best-selling author, actress, playwright, civil-rights activist, producer and director, she continues to travel the world, spreading her wisdom. Within the rhythm of her poetry and elegance of her prose lies Angelou's power to help readers of every orientation span the lines of race.
The above poem was written by Maya Angelou for Michael Jackson's public memorial at the Staples Center in Los Angeles. It was read by Queen Latifah, one of the many celebrities that paid tribute to the King of Pop. (Source)
.The above poem was written by Maya Angelou for Michael Jackson's public memorial at the Staples Center in Los Angeles. It was read by Queen Latifah, one of the many celebrities that paid tribute to the King of Pop. (Source)
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Details.
Darling
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Each Life is
Like a Flower
By Peter S. Quinn
Each life is like a flower
With leaves of green and yellow
And in the rain shower
They become quite mellow
Like dreams that are going by
Or flickering flames by night
The open reddish evening sky
That falls away its light
When love is in our heart
There is so much there going
From the beginning it'll start
To give of its tender flowing
You become with flames about
And feelings that inside glow
For all the fire will be out
Like streams of a river to grow
When all is done you feel inventive
Like grass that sways in wind
And to the world assentive
So tender out sided skinned
With closeness to a life you are
And deliberated with roses
Each night you drift alone with a star
As love again to you apposes
Like a Flower
By Peter S. Quinn
Each life is like a flower
With leaves of green and yellow
And in the rain shower
They become quite mellow
Like dreams that are going by
Or flickering flames by night
The open reddish evening sky
That falls away its light
When love is in our heart
There is so much there going
From the beginning it'll start
To give of its tender flowing
You become with flames about
And feelings that inside glow
For all the fire will be out
Like streams of a river to grow
When all is done you feel inventive
Like grass that sways in wind
And to the world assentive
So tender out sided skinned
With closeness to a life you are
And deliberated with roses
Each night you drift alone with a star
As love again to you apposes
.
A song of me and you
© 2009 - Ben Heine
.
One of my illustrations on paper
(black ink and watercolor)
.
A moving poem sent
to me by Sana Iftikhar
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A song of me and you
With riddles that are no secrets to us
But make other weary
A song of me and you
With love and hope and joy for life
Senses elate with joy of making love
Hope of making it last a life time
A song of me and you
With celestial sounds that’s sweeter than honey
Introspection or just mere impulsiveness
The need grows as our song comes to life
A song of me and you
Like a tale of an ancient warrior
A Greek god maybe
With riddles that are no secret to us
But makes other weary
A song of me and you
With lyrics lingering on our skin
Tracing their way to each others soul
Embedded like stars in a deep blue sky
A song of me and you
Like a poem that tells a story
Of love lost and found
Of faith embraced and revered
Of hearts mingling with ecstasy
Of souls coming to rest
Let that be ... a song of me and you.
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The Colours
of Her Soul
.
of Her Soul
.
.
Something
so Exotic
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
You are the wondrous ways
And everything within it
To you my feelings play
Wherever it seems fit
Today is not tomorrow
And nothing is the same
Each way to ways borrow
It is our lives game
Something so exotic
To places a moment on
A world full of anecdotic
Until the years are gone
Nights are little wild
Into my life today
They used to be so mild
But now their full of play
You are my woman now
We need to be two
Why we managed and how
I haven't got a clue
But everything has turned
And makes now more sense
Old bridges have been burned
And brought away the tense
You are the wondrous ways
And everything within it
To you my feelings play
Wherever it seems fit
We have no way to know
What makes a story good
It's quite like yes and no
What's done and what should...
so Exotic
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
You are the wondrous ways
And everything within it
To you my feelings play
Wherever it seems fit
Today is not tomorrow
And nothing is the same
Each way to ways borrow
It is our lives game
Something so exotic
To places a moment on
A world full of anecdotic
Until the years are gone
Nights are little wild
Into my life today
They used to be so mild
But now their full of play
You are my woman now
We need to be two
Why we managed and how
I haven't got a clue
But everything has turned
And makes now more sense
Old bridges have been burned
And brought away the tense
You are the wondrous ways
And everything within it
To you my feelings play
Wherever it seems fit
We have no way to know
What makes a story good
It's quite like yes and no
What's done and what should...
.
.
A Flower Is a
Lovesome Thing
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
A flower is a lovesome thing,
For it so much inside pleasures bring;
And spaces are there whole apart,
Everywhere there's a beating heart.
Give a day or two for each and each,
Some of love this feeling will teach;
Give a mood or take it then all away,
There are no more of thoughts to say.
Stranger you can find the new route,
For all your strangest feeling to breakout;
To another and a different time in time,
Be it a way or a thought so sublime.
A flower is a lovesome whole;
An enchanting way to your lonesome soul,
A garden within the different cosmos;
Freedom and beauty along the comatose.
Give a day or two for each and each,
For its beauty to you will then reach;
Give your heart a meaning and a reason,
In all the coming new pleasures season.
A Flower Is a
Lovesome Thing
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
A flower is a lovesome thing,
For it so much inside pleasures bring;
And spaces are there whole apart,
Everywhere there's a beating heart.
Give a day or two for each and each,
Some of love this feeling will teach;
Give a mood or take it then all away,
There are no more of thoughts to say.
Stranger you can find the new route,
For all your strangest feeling to breakout;
To another and a different time in time,
Be it a way or a thought so sublime.
A flower is a lovesome whole;
An enchanting way to your lonesome soul,
A garden within the different cosmos;
Freedom and beauty along the comatose.
Give a day or two for each and each,
For its beauty to you will then reach;
Give your heart a meaning and a reason,
In all the coming new pleasures season.
.
A Flower for You
.
© 2009 - Ben Heine
A Flower of
Blossom Dim
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
I want to touch your inner wing
With a kiss of my dark
Whereas the hours of night sing
With tones of the lark
A flower of blossom dim
My heart on to you will try
With emotions of whimsy whim
That opens up winter sky
Oh hold me in darkness long
With flowers of blackness blue
And give me your night love song
That comes with a cleansing thru
What have you here given me?
That is from the other site
And becomes in my fluid free
When we our love have tried
Sweetness so ever in deep
From roots of the fallen heart
Ours forever to keep
When lights again shall start
Trust every footstep's embrace
That beats the stoned road on
There are many turning ways
To get back when lights are gone
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© 2009 - Ben Heine.
Abstract painting on paper
.Abstract painting on paper
A Flower of
Blossom Dim
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
I want to touch your inner wing
With a kiss of my dark
Whereas the hours of night sing
With tones of the lark
A flower of blossom dim
My heart on to you will try
With emotions of whimsy whim
That opens up winter sky
Oh hold me in darkness long
With flowers of blackness blue
And give me your night love song
That comes with a cleansing thru
What have you here given me?
That is from the other site
And becomes in my fluid free
When we our love have tried
Sweetness so ever in deep
From roots of the fallen heart
Ours forever to keep
When lights again shall start
Trust every footstep's embrace
That beats the stoned road on
There are many turning ways
To get back when lights are gone
.
.
Love's a Feeling
.
By Peter S. Quinn
Love's a feeling that everywhere should go,
Burn on like the stars in fiery dark skies;
Flower of waiting - surely must some time know,
Everything there is because truth has no lies.
Love in the heart is like song of the moods,
Measure for each measure so deeply with root;
Takes nothing because of its high altitudes,
Just like a bird or a tree with its breadfruit.
Passions of much hidden meaning as well,
The heart that is throbbing and still awaiting:
With a key you can't see or even touch;
Each part and realm the future can't foretell,
Nothing in there is made of reason debating:
Only what you give yourself - and as much.
.
.
By Peter S. Quinn
Love's a feeling that everywhere should go,
Burn on like the stars in fiery dark skies;
Flower of waiting - surely must some time know,
Everything there is because truth has no lies.
Love in the heart is like song of the moods,
Measure for each measure so deeply with root;
Takes nothing because of its high altitudes,
Just like a bird or a tree with its breadfruit.
Passions of much hidden meaning as well,
The heart that is throbbing and still awaiting:
With a key you can't see or even touch;
Each part and realm the future can't foretell,
Nothing in there is made of reason debating:
Only what you give yourself - and as much.
.
.
Lock and Key
Lock and Key
By Kristen McVay
My heart under lock and key
Until you came along and stole
Both lock and key
You unlocked my heart and let it be free
But now you've also let it be hurt
You promised you wouldn't
And I trusted you
So I'm stealing back the lock and key
My heart under lock and key.
(The poem appeared on poetry.com)
My heart under lock and key
Until you came along and stole
Both lock and key
You unlocked my heart and let it be free
But now you've also let it be hurt
You promised you wouldn't
And I trusted you
So I'm stealing back the lock and key
My heart under lock and key.
(The poem appeared on poetry.com)
PS : This is a photo of a sculpture by the American artist Tom Otterness. I took it in The Hague, Netherlands
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Danger of Love
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Love is a Sickness
.
By Samuel Daniel (*)
Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing;
A plant that with most cutting grows,
Most barren with best using.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries--
Heigh ho!
Love is a torment of the mind,
A tempest everlasting;
And Jove hath made it of a kind
Not well, nor full nor fasting.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries--
Heigh ho!
.
By Samuel Daniel (*)
Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing;
A plant that with most cutting grows,
Most barren with best using.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries--
Heigh ho!
Love is a torment of the mind,
A tempest everlasting;
And Jove hath made it of a kind
Not well, nor full nor fasting.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries--
Heigh ho!
---------------
(*) Samuel Daniel (1562 – October 14, 1619) was an English poet and historian. Daniel was born near Taunton in Somerset, the son of a music-master. He was the brother of John Daniel. Their sister Rosa was Edmund Spenser's model for Rosalind in his The Shepherd's Calendar; she eventually married John Florio. In 1579, Daniel was admitted to Magdalen Hall (now known as Hertford College) at Oxford University, where he remained for about three years and afterwards devoted himself to the study of poetry and philosophy. A "Samuel Daniel" is recorded in 1586 as being the servant of Edward Stafford, the Baron of Stafford and the English ambassador in France. This is probably the same person as the poet. >>> More
--> The poem appeared on poetry.com
--> The poem appeared on poetry.com
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God, Man and Woman
.
By Firoze Shakir
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In the cradle like womb
lies birthright of a
baby...
the father of man
in full bloom...
humble beginnings
live let live
go back
as food
for worm like thoughts
in an unmarked tomb.
God the Dress maker
Man in a Woman’s Costume.
Woman undressed
Mans Everlasting Doom.
Dark shadows on his
Ancestral awakening loom
A dead corpse to exhume
The world a mortuary
A tenanted room
(Poem's source : firozeshakir.blogspot.com)
.
--------------
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The poem and photo appeared on hubzay.deviantart.com
God, Man and Woman
.
By Firoze Shakir
.
In the cradle like womb
lies birthright of a
baby...
the father of man
in full bloom...
humble beginnings
live let live
go back
as food
for worm like thoughts
in an unmarked tomb.
God the Dress maker
Man in a Woman’s Costume.
Woman undressed
Mans Everlasting Doom.
Dark shadows on his
Ancestral awakening loom
A dead corpse to exhume
The world a mortuary
A tenanted room
(Poem's source : firozeshakir.blogspot.com)
.
--------------
.
The poem and photo appeared on hubzay.deviantart.com
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Dreamy Invader
By Dominika Timoszuk
You and You
always in my dreams
Real, so real
only when I sleep
Close, too close
makes me feel afraid
That my whisper
will reveal
will betray
that You were here
--------------------
The 2 persons represented are my dear friends
Dominika Timoszuk and Leszek Boltruczuk.
Dominika graduated in law and got a master degree
in criminology. However, she is rather interested in arts and
literature. She also loves music and sings in her rockband
and sometimes writes about life observations.
Visit Dominika's great blog, "Inner Light"
All the poems posted here are by Dominika Timoszuk.
--------------------
Under my skin
By Dominika Timoszuk
Nothing new under my skin:
Blood perversely rushes through veins
Every move strains my muscles
Every heartbeat closes Death.
----------------
Nirvana of Mine
By Dominika Timoszuk
A thoughtless moment-
joyful nonexistance
With no past behind me-
laugh at ego persistence.
----------------
I'm every woman
By Dominika Timoszuk
I'm every woman
Craving for attention
Sweet lies
not to mention
A walking contradiction
Within just one month
Anything can happen
That is woman's life.
----------------
Against Disabilism
By Dominika Timoszuk
Come in handy Handicapped
Show us how to treasure
What we take for granted
Without having a measure
For we can walk
and march for war
For we can speak
but tell all lies
Handicapped we are
Though having all we need
With no compasion- mentally ill
Looking so fine- rotten underneath
----------------
Sweet Dreaming
By Dominika Timoszuk
Again-the dreaming-
And that sweet, sweet feeling
when the dream slips woken mind.
And moment of truth
You're gone, no more us-two
And again I'm all alone.
A banal cliché
Fatal anyway
I'm killing the dream
Stuck in reality.
----------------
Provoking Myself
By Dominika Timoszuk
I dreamt of hugging that made me shiver
I dreamt of sucking that made me blush
I dreamt of licking that made me give her
the whole small prudish world of mine
And then I woke up and right beside me
There was she lying stark naked, so pleased
And realised it wasn't just dreaming
And here I go- a totally new Me.
----------------
Wind in my Hair
By Dominika Timoszuk
Wind in my hair
Euphemism today
Can't blame the wind
It's blowing like hell
Drops from the sky
Euphemism once more
Can't blame the rain
It wets me to the core.
----------------
Long ago
By Dominika Timoszuk
When the past comes back
And gets sitted right beside You
Then you realise
That it is all behind You
And the words he says don't hurt
Though they still make melody
Though the looks can't deceive
No they can't, indeed!
And though moment gets me stuck
In- between realities
There's no place for regrets
Only pleasure memories
----------------
The Verses from the Bus
By Dominika Timoszuk
The fragility of Fate!
Though Fate seems so grave
That's just an illusion
The mix, the fusion
Of impossibility
Of ridiculous
The mingle of you and me
Sweet, sour, loving, mean
Exaggeration, duration
Of our small nation
----------------
While drunk...
By Dominika Timoszuk
Drunk in my mind
Physically sober
That is my way
to survive October
Soon to come winter
Freezes my cheer
Leaves cover my bed
Need You to warm me Dear
I deeply hope
Like nature blooms
That in the spring
I'll also do
----------------
The Handicapped
By Dominika Timoszuk
Come in handy Handicapped
Show us how to treasure
What we take for granted
Without having a measure
For we can walk
and march for war
For we can speak
but tell all lies
Handicapped we are
Though having all we need
With no compasion- mentally ill
Looking so fine- rotten underneath
----------------
Sad Conclusion
By Dominika Timoszuk
Don't worry, be happy
Friday the Thirteenth
Nothing bad can happen
Except for this:
You spill the milk all over
You crush Your shiny Rover
You really deadly miss her
You stain your favourite T-shirt
Don't worry, be happy
Saturday- Fourteenth
Nothing bad will happen
Except for this:
You...
On and on all over
Like on the carousel
Life chases destiny
Through triviality...
----------------
The Greed
By Dominika Timoszuk
Oh, God's little malice
Forbiding the greed
When it's all people's nature
The craving for life
To grab it and taste it
With their mouths full
They mumble sinning
always yearn for more
Insatiable desire
Never to be fullfilled
But that urge lasts forever
But that is all in vain.
.
Dreamy Invader
By Dominika Timoszuk
You and You
always in my dreams
Real, so real
only when I sleep
Close, too close
makes me feel afraid
That my whisper
will reveal
will betray
that You were here
--------------------
The 2 persons represented are my dear friends
Dominika Timoszuk and Leszek Boltruczuk.
Dominika graduated in law and got a master degree
in criminology. However, she is rather interested in arts and
literature. She also loves music and sings in her rockband
and sometimes writes about life observations.
Visit Dominika's great blog, "Inner Light"
All the poems posted here are by Dominika Timoszuk.
--------------------
Under my skin
By Dominika Timoszuk
Nothing new under my skin:
Blood perversely rushes through veins
Every move strains my muscles
Every heartbeat closes Death.
----------------
Nirvana of Mine
By Dominika Timoszuk
A thoughtless moment-
joyful nonexistance
With no past behind me-
laugh at ego persistence.
----------------
I'm every woman
By Dominika Timoszuk
I'm every woman
Craving for attention
Sweet lies
not to mention
A walking contradiction
Within just one month
Anything can happen
That is woman's life.
----------------
Against Disabilism
By Dominika Timoszuk
Come in handy Handicapped
Show us how to treasure
What we take for granted
Without having a measure
For we can walk
and march for war
For we can speak
but tell all lies
Handicapped we are
Though having all we need
With no compasion- mentally ill
Looking so fine- rotten underneath
----------------
Sweet Dreaming
By Dominika Timoszuk
Again-the dreaming-
And that sweet, sweet feeling
when the dream slips woken mind.
And moment of truth
You're gone, no more us-two
And again I'm all alone.
A banal cliché
Fatal anyway
I'm killing the dream
Stuck in reality.
----------------
Provoking Myself
By Dominika Timoszuk
I dreamt of hugging that made me shiver
I dreamt of sucking that made me blush
I dreamt of licking that made me give her
the whole small prudish world of mine
And then I woke up and right beside me
There was she lying stark naked, so pleased
And realised it wasn't just dreaming
And here I go- a totally new Me.
----------------
Wind in my Hair
By Dominika Timoszuk
Wind in my hair
Euphemism today
Can't blame the wind
It's blowing like hell
Drops from the sky
Euphemism once more
Can't blame the rain
It wets me to the core.
----------------
Long ago
By Dominika Timoszuk
When the past comes back
And gets sitted right beside You
Then you realise
That it is all behind You
And the words he says don't hurt
Though they still make melody
Though the looks can't deceive
No they can't, indeed!
And though moment gets me stuck
In- between realities
There's no place for regrets
Only pleasure memories
----------------
The Verses from the Bus
By Dominika Timoszuk
The fragility of Fate!
Though Fate seems so grave
That's just an illusion
The mix, the fusion
Of impossibility
Of ridiculous
The mingle of you and me
Sweet, sour, loving, mean
Exaggeration, duration
Of our small nation
----------------
While drunk...
By Dominika Timoszuk
Drunk in my mind
Physically sober
That is my way
to survive October
Soon to come winter
Freezes my cheer
Leaves cover my bed
Need You to warm me Dear
I deeply hope
Like nature blooms
That in the spring
I'll also do
----------------
The Handicapped
By Dominika Timoszuk
Come in handy Handicapped
Show us how to treasure
What we take for granted
Without having a measure
For we can walk
and march for war
For we can speak
but tell all lies
Handicapped we are
Though having all we need
With no compasion- mentally ill
Looking so fine- rotten underneath
----------------
Sad Conclusion
By Dominika Timoszuk
Don't worry, be happy
Friday the Thirteenth
Nothing bad can happen
Except for this:
You spill the milk all over
You crush Your shiny Rover
You really deadly miss her
You stain your favourite T-shirt
Don't worry, be happy
Saturday- Fourteenth
Nothing bad will happen
Except for this:
You...
On and on all over
Like on the carousel
Life chases destiny
Through triviality...
----------------
The Greed
By Dominika Timoszuk
Oh, God's little malice
Forbiding the greed
When it's all people's nature
The craving for life
To grab it and taste it
With their mouths full
They mumble sinning
always yearn for more
Insatiable desire
Never to be fullfilled
But that urge lasts forever
But that is all in vain.
.
That Muse
.
(Ben Heine © Cartoons).
So is it not with me as with that muse
.
By William Shakespeare
.
So is it not with me as with that muse,
Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven it self for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a couplement of proud compare
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
O, let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then, believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air.
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
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(The poem appeared on infoplease.com)
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