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As the resident poet at EcoHealth, my verse finds inspiration these days in the specter of future pandemics. For my dissertation at LMU's Amerika-Institut, I'm anatomizing the poetics (especially the prosody) of E. A. Robinson's sonnets. I also teach at Münchner Volkshochschule and lead the Amerikahaus Literary Circle.

20140409

CXXXVII


by William Shakespeare


Thou blinde foole loue,what dooſt thou to mine eyes,
That they behold and ſee not what they ſee :
They know what beautie is,ſee where it lyes,
Yet what the beſt is ,take the worſt to be.
If eyes corrupt by ouer-partiall lookes,
Be anchord in the baye where all men ride,
Why of eyes falſehood haſt thou forged hookes,
Whereto the iudgement of my heart is tide ?
Why should my heart thinke that a ſeuerall plot,
Which my heart knowes the wide worlds common place?
Or mine eyes ſeeing this,ſay this is not
To put faire truth vpon ſo foule a face,
   In things right true my heart and eyes haue erred,
   And to this falſe plague are they now tranſferred.


Note:  A recitation can be heard here.

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