So Many Things Left Unsaid, My Own Words Not Enough
So I'll Use Others To Refer To A Portion Of My Own,
Still Unable To Grasp It All. If You Should Decide
To Return To Me I Will Readily Take You Back, I'm
Waiting For You Still, Waiting For You Always. My
Heart Forever Yours, No One Elses To Love. In Pain
And Longing I Write But Yet So Full Of Love. In My
Mind I Play A Bitter Game, Trying To Fool Myself By
Saying You'll Be Back. So I Wait. I Love You. I Know
I Am Unworthy To Have You, And So Sorry Im Not Enough
But My Love For You Wont Stop Crying Out So In Hopes
You Change Your Mind, I Will ALWAYS Be Here Waiting
For You... Mel Dan Si Me Disa!...




Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate.
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, upon misprison growing,
Comes home again, on better judgment making.
Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter:
In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.

William Shakespeare, 1564-1616.




In Hopes Of Translation:



Goodbye; you're too valuable for me to hold onto, and
you probably know exactly what you're worth. Your
high value gives you the right to leave me; you have
severed the ties that bind me to you. For what hold do
I have over you except the hold that you choose to give
me, and how do I deserve such a treasure? There's
nothing in me to justify such a beautiful gift, so my
right to possess you is reverting back to you. When
you gave yourself to me, you didn't know your own worth,
or else you were mistaken about me, the person you
gave yourself to. So the great gift you gave me,
being based on a false estimate, goes back to you now
that you're able to make a better judgment. Thus, the
time in which I had you was like a flattering dream;
while I was asleep, I thought I was a king, but when I
woke up, I found that was not the case.



Sonnets, English. Crowther, John. No Fear Shakespeare.