Sonnet 36: Let Me Confess That We Two Must Be Twain

Let me confess that we two must be twain,
Although our undivided loves are one;
So shall those blots that do with me remain,
Without thy help, by me be borne alone.
In our two loves there is but one respect,
Though in our lives a separable spite,
Which, though it alter not love's sole effect,
Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight.
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
Lest my bewailèd guilt should do thee shame,
Nor thou with public kindness honour me
Unless thou take that honour from thy name.
But do not so; I love thee in such sort
As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

by William Shakespeare

Comments (5)

Nuce poem
I like all the poems
No room, no room, the boat is too small. Loaded with my gold paddy, the boat is full.....I salute the magnetic power of imagination of the great saint!
Good translation. As good as the original Bangla.
It is Miss misfortune that comes on the water in the form of bad weather and takes all the golden harvest but leaves the miserable farmer to suffer. The small farmers of Bengal and other places in India still fall prey to the whims of bad weather. In a different thread it could also be the boat of the rice whole-seller, money lenders boat taking all the harvest. Either ways the misery leads the small farmer to commit suicide, sometimes.