Mojo, The Bard, & Me

 

The painful warrior famoused for fight,

After a thousand victories once foil’d,

Is from the book of houour razed quite,

And all the rest forgot for which he toil’d:

 

Sonnet 25                                        Third Quatrain

 

It’s been a while since we looked at a sonnet. Let’s see the whole thing.

        Let those who are in favour with their stars

        Of public houour and proud titles boast,

        Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,

        Unlookt for joy in that I honour most.

        Great princes’ favourites their great leaves spread

        But as the marigold at the sun’s eye;

        And in themselves their pride lies buried,

        For at a frown they in their glory die.

        The painful warrior famoused for fight,

After a thousand victories once foil’d,

Is from the book of houour razed quite,

And all the rest forgot for which he toil’d:

        The happy I, that love and am beloved 

        Where I may not remove or be removed.

Oi, this is a tough one. Wait, no it’s not. As soon as I read it again and took a closer look it became very clear.

 

Q1.  Let the lucky ones have fame, not me.

Q2.  Fame is fleeting, and their glory will fade.

Q3.  The warrior who wins a thousand fights is remembered for the last one that he lost, and then he’s forgotten.

I’m happy because I love and am loved, and I have no fame to lose.

 

Pretty simple, eh? And I like it. C’est moi!

Since the sonnet is about me - unfamous, lover, and loved - I guess I had no choice. I had to give you pic of me. Simple as that.

C'est moi!