Sonnet CXXVIII (Sonnet 128) Music Video - Christina Bouey & Rhiannon Banerdt - 4K 24FPS
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This is a tale of a woman who envies the sound of the violin and wants nothing more than to play it herself. While struggling with her thoughts, she finally accepts who she is and her own voice.
Oxford Songs
Book VIII, #3
Words by EDWARD DE VERE (AKA: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE)
Music by JOSEPH SUMMER
Recorded at MECHANICS HALL
Performed and recorded by CHRISTINA BOUEY (VOICE & VIOLIN) & RHIANNON BANERDT (VIOLIN)
Filmed, edited and produced by MICHAEL SINICROPI
With the generous support of THE MATTINA R. PROCTOR FOUNDATION
TEXT:
Sonnet CXXVIII
How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand!
To be so tickled, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips,
O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more bless'd than living lips.
Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.