Originál: (en) No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.
Zdroj: [Donne, John, 2008, Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions: Together With Death's Duel, Echo Library, 97, angličtina, 9781848301115]
John Donne: 123 citátů194 lajků
John Donne nejznámější citáty
John Donne: Citáty anglicky
“No spring, nor summer beauty hath such grace,
As I have seen in one autumnal face.”
No. 9, The Autumnal, line 1
Elegies
Zdroj: The Complete Poetry and Selected Prose
“For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love.”
— John Donne, The Canonization
The Canonization, stanza 1
“Yesternight the sun went hence,
And yet is here today.”
Zdroj: A line from a poem/song: Sweetest Love, I Do Not Go. Full version https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Song:_Sweetest_love,_I_do_not_go
Kontext: SWEETEST love, I do not go,
For weariness of thee,
Nor in hope the world can show
A fitter love for me;
But since that I
At the last must part, 'tis best,
Thus to use myself in jest
By feigned deaths to die.
Yesternight the sun went hence,
And yet is here to-day;
He hath no desire nor sense,
Nor half so short a way;
Then fear not me,
But believe that I shall make
Speedier journeys, since I take
More wings and spurs than he.
O how feeble is man's power,
That if good fortune fall,
Cannot add another hour,
Nor a lost hour recall;
But come bad chance,
And we join to it our strength,
And we teach it art and length,
Itself o'er us to advance.
When thou sigh'st, thou sigh'st not wind,
But sigh'st my soul away;
When thou weep'st, unkindly kind,
My life's blood doth decay.
It cannot be
That thou lovest me as thou say'st,
If in thine my life thou waste,
That art the best of me.
Let not thy divining heart
Forethink me any ill;
Destiny may take thy part,
And may thy fears fulfil.
But think that we
Are but turn'd aside to sleep.
They who one another keep
Alive, ne'er parted be.
“As well a well-wrought urn becomes
The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs.”
— John Donne, The Canonization
The Canonization, stanza 4
“Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.”
Zdroj: The Poems of John Donne; Miscellaneous Poems (Songs and Sonnets) Elegies. Epithalamions, or Marriage Songs. Satires. Epigrams. the Progress of
“I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved?”
— John Donne, The Good-Morrow
Songs and Sonnets (1633), The Good-Morrow
Kontext: p>I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den?
’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love, all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres,
Without sharp north, without declining west?
Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.</p
“Love's mysteries in souls do grow,
But yet the body is his book.”
The Extasy, line 71
Zdroj: The Complete English Poems
“Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse, so bright and clear.”
— John Donne, kniha Holy Sonnets
No. 18, line 1
Holy Sonnets (1633)
“If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.”
— John Donne, The Good-Morrow
Songs and Sonnets (1633), The Good-Morrow
Kontext: p>I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den?
’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love, all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres,
Without sharp north, without declining west?
Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.</p
“If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee.”
— John Donne, The Good-Morrow
Songs and Sonnets (1633), The Good-Morrow
Kontext: p>I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den?
’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love, all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres,
Without sharp north, without declining west?
Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.</p
“They'are ours, though they'are not we”
The Extasy, line 45
Kontext: We then, who are this new soul, know
Of what we are compos'd and made,
For th' atomies of which we grow
Are souls, whom no change can invade.
But oh alas, so long, so far,
Our bodies why do we forbear?
They'are ours, though they'are not we; we are
The intelligences, they the spheres.
“Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so,”
— John Donne, kniha Holy Sonnets
No. 10, line 1
Holy Sonnets (1633)
Kontext: Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so,
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
“At the round earth's imagin'd corners, blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise”
— John Donne, kniha Holy Sonnets
No. 7, line 1
Holy Sonnets (1633)
Kontext: At the round earth's imagin'd corners, blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise
From death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattred bodies go.
“For love, all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.”
— John Donne, The Good-Morrow
Songs and Sonnets (1633), The Good-Morrow
Kontext: p>I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den?
’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love, all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres,
Without sharp north, without declining west?
Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.</p
“Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.”
— John Donne, The Good-Morrow
Songs and Sonnets (1633), The Good-Morrow
Kontext: p>I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den?
’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love, all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres,
Without sharp north, without declining west?
Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.</p
“I am two fools, I know,
For loving, and for saying so
In whining poetry.”
The Triple Fool, stanza 1
Zdroj: The Complete English Poems
Modern version: No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
Meditation 17. This was the source for the title of Ernest Hemingway's novel.
Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions (1624)
Zdroj: Meditation XVII - Meditation 17
Kontext: No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.
— John Donne, kniha Elegy XIX: To His Mistress Going to Bed
No. 19, To His Mistress Going to Bed
Elegies
Zdroj: The Complete English Poems
“Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.”
No. 2, The Anagram, line 27
Elegies
Zdroj: The Complete English Poems
“And to 'scape stormy days, I choose an everlasting night.”
Zdroj: The Complete English Poems
“No man is an island, entire of itself.”
Zdroj: No man is an island – A selection from the prose
“Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls;
For, thus friends absent speak.”
Verse Letter to Sir Henry Woton, written before April 1598, line 1
Varianta: More than kisses, letters mingle souls.
