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letra de to his coy mistress - frederic rzewski

had we but world enough and time
this coyness, lady, were no crime
we would sit down, and think which way
to walk, and pass our long love’s day
thou by the indian ganges’ side
shouldst rubies find; i by the tide
of humber would complain. i would
love you ten years before the flood
and you should, if you please, refuse
till the conversion of the jews
my vegetable love should grow
vaster than empires and more slow;
an hundred years should go to praise
thine еyes, and on thy forehead gazе;
two hundred to adore each breast
but thirty thousand to the rest;
an age at least to every part
and the last age should show your heart
for, lady, you deserve this state
nor would i love at lower rate
but at my back i always hear
time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
and yonder all before us lie
deserts of vast eternity
thy beauty shall no more be found;
nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
my echoing song; then worms shall try
that long-preserved virginity
and your quaint honour turn to dust
and into ashes all my l-st;
the grave’s a fine and private place
but none, i think, do there embrace
now therefore, while the youthful hue
sits on thy skin like morning dew
and while thy willing soul transpires
at every pore with instant fires
now let us sport us while we may
and now, like amorous birds of prey
rather at once our time devour
than languish in his slow-chapped power
let us roll all our strength and all
our sweetness up into one ball
and tear our pleasures with rough strife
through the iron gates of life:
thus, though we cannot make our sun
stand still, yet we can make him run

- frederic rzewski

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