How do I love you? Let me count how I do.
I love you deeply, so highly, with a certainty,
as my soul blindly extends, when with you
our existence touches and we make eternity.

I’ve loved you until our quietness was my cure,
with each new day touched by your lamps-glow,
as if sun-shines. Free, by right, now as pure
as thee, with life’s glory turned away, unsure.

In all the passion attached to life’s ordeal
and with it’s childish force, it was gone, unreal
I cannot believe in that sacred love no more.

But In your smile, in our calm joyful-plight,
love is life’s breath. And if God chooses the door,
I choose in your eternal love at our goodnight.

David Scanlon – England – (1963 – )

Barrett Browning, E. (2018) Collected Poems: New Translations: New Translations. The Foolish Poet Press, Wilmslow, England. Sonnets from the Portuguese - XLIII. Page Number 37.

Wie ich dich liebe? Laß mich zählen wie.
Ich liebe dich so tief, so hoch, so weit,
als meine Seele blindlings reicht, wenn sie
ihr Dasein abfühlt und die Ewigkeit.

Ich liebe dich bis zu dem stillsten Stand,
den jeder Tag erreicht im Lampenschein
oder in Sonne. Frei, im Recht, und rein
wie jene, die vom Ruhm sich abgewandt.

Mit aller Leidenschaft der Leidenszeit
und mit der Kindheit Kraft, die fort war, seit
ich meine Heiligen nicht mehr geliebt.

Mit allem Lächeln, aller Tränennot
und allem Atem. Und wenn Gott es giebt,
will ich dich besser lieben nach dem Tod.

Rainer Maria Rilke – Germany – (1875 – 1926)

Rilke, R.M. (1908) ‘Sonette aus dem Portugiesischen .‘  Insel-Verlag: Leipzig. (Sonnett 43)

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How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning – England – (1806 – 1861)

Barrett Browning, E. (1850) ‘Poems including Sonnets from the Portuguese and other verse.‘ Chapman & Hall: London: (Sonnet 43)

Work is no longer protected by copyright.

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