My Isolde, fair as the stars above,
Nothing can compare to thy lovely grace,
Our love is as sweet as that of a dove,
Nothing can equal with your sweet embrace.
Our love shines in the darkest of regions,
The stars, moon, nor even the sun can compare,
Kingdoms far and wide will send their legions,
In search of a lovely maiden so rare.
But alas your promised to another,
With no hope of you ever being mine,
You were given away by your mother,
Your hand was given to that ghastly swine.
Love, fear not, for I, Tristan, shall save thee,
And if I cannot save thee, I shall flee.
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Tristan and Isolde
PoetryA Shakespearian style sonnet about the tragic love story of Sir Tristan of Cornwall and Princess Isolde of Ireland.
