If that be simply perfectest Which can by no way be expresst But negatives, my love is so. To All, which all love, I say no. Negative Love - John Donne

If I were but mere dust and ashes I might speak unto the Lord, for the Lord's hand made me of this dust, and the Lord's hand shall re-collect these ashes; the Lord's hand was the wheel upon which this vessel of clay was framed, and the Lord's hand is the urn in which these ashes shall be preserved. I am the dust and the ashes of the temple of the Holy Ghost, and what marble is so precious? But I am more than dust and ashes: I am my best part, I am my soul. And being so, the breath of God, I may breathe back these pious expostulations to my God:

I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den? ’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be. If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. And now good-morrow to our waking souls, Which watch not one another out of fear; For love, all love of other sights controls, And makes one little room an everywhere. Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone, Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown, Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one. My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears, And true plain hearts do in the faces rest; Where can we find two better hemispheres, Without sharp north, without declining west? Whatever dies, was not mixed equally; If our two loves be one, or, thou and I Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.

Ve y coge una estrella fugaz;
fecunda a la raíz de mandrágora;
dime dónde está el pasado,
o quién hendió la pezuña del diablo;
enséñame a oír cómo canta la sirena,
a apartar el aguijón de la envidia,
y descubre
cual es el viento
que impulsa a una mente honesta.

Si has nacido para ver cosas extrañas,
cosas invisibles al ojo,
cabalga diez mil días y noches
hasta que la edad cubra de nieve tus cabellos.
Cuando retornes, me contarás
las extrañas maravillas que te acontecieron,
y jurarás
que en ningún lugar
vive una mujer justa y constante.

Si la encuentras, dímelo,
¡dulce peregrinación sería!
Pero no, porque no iría,
aunque fuera justo al lado;
aunque fiel, al encontrarla,
y hasta al escribir la carta,
sin embargo,
antes que fuera,
infiel con dos, o tres, fuera.