Transformer AI poetry: Poetry classics as reimagined and rewritten by an artificial intelligence.
“Sonnet 18”
William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;
FROM HERE COMPLETED BY GPT-3:
A winter’s day, when beams of sun are few,
And skies are grey with clouds intemperate,
Is to thy beauty somehow sordid grown.
Her lovely-lovely eye is quite shut up,
Like windows pale before a sunny shower.
The earth that’s cold and moist, like to my mistress,
When once that she unbrac’d, her lovely jewel,
Grows as both ugly and uncourtly.
Poor soul, the center of my motley host,
See, now they request thy sovereign presence;
The din of merry hearts hath brought me thus
To greet thee, thou unsoil’d and saint-like beauty.
A Translation by an Artificial Neural Network that draws inspiration from François Connor’s translation.
Soften thou, for showers often stain the daylight,
And longer they torment my Mary’s day,
But the midday sunshine of thy radiance
Burns in my heart reasonable days.
But rain in an April evening is worse,
No pleasure does disturb the tending rain
That cheeks soon fade and pleasures fade in haste,
When cloudy skies and humid days we wait.
Neither flesh of love nor love’s herself my love,
The sun to love is now unfelt, and rare,
My hole sun showing your religion here,
Hastens to go, a blush on your forehead.
But the sky of my heart has gathered better,
In the midst of joy and merriment, to greet you
The pulse of the game of flowers, said here
Your unsoiled and bright to try to.
