I've been writing and thinking about writing more lately, and I wanted to do something with poetry. I also am really drawn to mash-ups, and while I have no musical ability, I do have familiarity with poetry.
I started by thinking of poets I liked, and who was in the public domain (since my intent was to reuse pretty much the entire poem for the ones I was mashing up). I wound up deciding on Shakespeare's Sonnet 141 and Lord Byron's She Walks in Beauty. Both are love poems, though there is a certain amount of ambiguity in the Shakespearean sonnet--what I got is quite a lot different than either. What resulted is below, along with the photo I displayed with the poem in my design journal.
In faith she does not walk in beauty
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
(She walks in beauty, like the night.)
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But tis my heart that loves what they despise,
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Of cloudless climes and starry skies-
she in despite of view, is pleased to dote.
She walks in beauty like the night,
Thus mellowed to that tender light.
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes.
What heaven to gaudy day denies,
oh tis my heart that loves what they despise.
Nor are my eyes with thy tongue’s tune delighted.
One shade the more, one ray the less
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Had half-impaired the nameless grace
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
To my sensual feast with thee alone.
Night softly lightens o’er her face;
In faith I do not love with mine eyes,
How pure, how clear the dwelling place
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited.
Light waves in every raven tress--
She walks in beauty like the night.
But my five wits now my five senses can
But tell of days in goodness spent.
Who leaves unswayed the likeness of man?
A heart whose love is innocent!
She walks in beauty like the night--
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee!
Oh softly lightens o’er her face--
Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be.
She walks in beauty like the night.
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
It half-impaired that nameless grace,
Of cloudless climes and starry skies.
The smiles that win, the tints that glow--
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
A mind at peace with all below.
And she that makes me sin, awards me pain.
She walks in beauty like the night--
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes.
And all that’s best of dark and bright--
