“…the ravell’d sleeve of care…”
Bill had a way with words…
“Methought I heard a voice cry ‘Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep’, the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleeve of care…”
Macbeth, Act 2, Scene 2
William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
I am not the heartiest Shakespeare fan in the world. You may agree with me that, often, a little bit of Shakespeare doth goe a longish way, ‘struth it be…
As well, agree with me that Bill was an indubitable master of the King’s English. Shakespeare added more words—hearty words, dumbfoundingly marvelous words—to our language than anyone else. I dare to say that everyone who speaks English mentions every day something that Shakespeare wrote.
This tidbit from Macbeth is a gift to language lovers everywhere. You don’t have to be a poet to recognize that “…knits up the ravell’d sleeve of care…” is a dazzling and profoundly experiential way to say “sleep heals.”
Anyone who nourishes a poetic muse can see that these words transform mundane familiarity with a domestic art into a vision of tender and urgent longing that fills a gaping hole in the mind.
I wish I’d said that.
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Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2020 All rights reserved.
Book review: The Poems of Robert Frost
he hears those bluebirds talking…
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As with another eye: Poems of exactitude with 55 free verse and haiku poems,
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