In this experiment, I attempted to re-write each line of Shakespeare’s sonnet (bold) into my own words (normal). I hope you like it! I’d love feedback. Also, before you say anything, let me tell you that I didn’t even try to make my lines rhyme, I changed them semantically.
When my love swears that she is made of truth
Mi amor tells me that she is trustworthy
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
I hold her to her words, but I know her to be a liar,
That she might think me some untutor’d youth,
She must consider me uncultured and ignorant,
Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.
Naive when it comes to the world’s problematic state.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
In her egocentric mind, I am but childlike,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Although she realises that my finest moments are spent,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
Naturally, I appreciate her mouth’s deceitful language:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppress’d.
Both of us suppress the simple truth.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
But why does she tell me she doesn’t lie?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
And why don’t I say that I am old?
O, love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
Oh, to love well is to assume the other honourable
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Age does not matter to those swept up in love:
Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
So we lie there together
And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.
And we flatter ourselves by lying about the other’s flaws.