no offence to the shakespeare fans out here..i'm have grown up reading his work and admire them. just thinking and wondering how would kyph be had it been written by Shakespeare..feel free to add the verses of shakespeare into this....so here i go:
Zaib to Mishty:
Shall i compare thee to a summers day, tho art more lovely and more temperate.Rough winds do shake the darling buds of may, and summers lease hath all too short a date....
Mishty to Zaib:
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines and often is his gold complexision dimmd and every fair from fair sometimes declines, by chance or nature changing course untrimmd.
Zaib to Mishty:
but thy sumer shall not fade nor lose possession of that fair thou owest, nor shall death brag thou wanderest in his shade, when in eternal lines to time thou growest.So long as men can breathe and eyes can see, so long live this and this gives life too thee.
Kripa to Zaib:
Oh Romeo, Oh Romeo, Where art tho!
Zaib to Kripa:
To me my fair friend, you never can be old, for as you are when your eyes i first eyed, such seems your beauty still, three winters cold, have from the forest shook three summers pride
Prithvi to Kripa:
Three beauteous spring to yellow autumn turnd in the process of seasons have i seen, three april perfumes in three hot jnes burnd, since first i saw you fresh, which yet are green. Ah, yet doth beauty , like a dial hand, steal from his figure, and no pace percieved, so your sweet hue, which me thinks still doth stand, hath motion and mine eye may be decieved, for fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred, ere you were born, was beauty summers dead.
Kripa to Zaib and Prithvi having Angad in mind:
Full many a glorious mornings have i seen, flatter the mountain top with sovereign eye, kissing the golden face the meadows green, gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy. Anon permit the baset cloud to ride, with ugly rack on his celestial face, and from the forlorn world his visage hide, stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. Even so my sun one morn did shine, with all triumphant splendour on my brow, but out alack, he was but one hour mine, the region cloud hath masked him from me now.
Yet for him for this my love no whit disdaineth, suns of the world may stain, when heavens sun staineth.
Will add more later!
misty
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