Well Red

Happy Valentine’s Day.  I thought this year the holiday needed a twist.  Mr. Shakespeare is here to shake things up a bit.  Here is his sonnet 130 accompanied by the reds of Reykjavik.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;  Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;  If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,  But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight  Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know  That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare   As any she belied with false compare.