JOHN DONNE poem THE SUN RISING English – translated texts





John Donne

The sun rising

(poem – original English text)




Busy old fool, unruly Sun,

Why dost thou thus,

Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?

Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run?



Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide

Late school-boys and sour prentices,

Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,

Call country ants to harvest offices;

Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,

Nor hours, days, months,

which are the rags of time.



Thy beams so reverend, and strong

Why shouldst thou think?

I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,

But that I would not lose

her sight so long.



If her eyes have not blinded thine,

Look, and to-morrow late tell me,

Whether both th’ Indias of spice and mine

Be where thou left’st them, or lie here with me.


Ask for those kings whom thou saw’st yesterday,

And thou shalt hear,

“All here in one bed lay.”



She’s all states,

and all princes I;

Nothing else is;



Princes do but play us; compared to this,

All honour’s mimic,

all wealth alchemy.


Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,

In that the world’s contracted thus;

Thine age asks ease,

and since thy duties be To warm the world,

that’s done in warming us.



Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;

This bed thy center is,

these walls thy sphere.



John Donne – The sun rising

(poem – original English text)





John Donne



John Donne (22 January 1572 – 31 March 1631) was an English poet and cleric in the Church of England.

John Donne is considered the pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets.
John Donne works are noted for their strong, sensual style and include sonnets, love poems, religious poems,
Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons. His poetry is noted for its vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, especially compared to that of his contemporaries. (from: Wikipedia)


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