Good morning everyone!
They (ie., William Shakespeare) once said that “a rose by another name would smell as sweet.” Due to an unfortunate encounter with perfume that was loved by another not wisely, but too well, I have been thinking about that quote, and I just don’t believe it. If I offer you a rose, I am offering you not only the physical object in my hand, but the centuries of allure, legend and mystique that travel with the word “rose.” If all I was offering you was a “rosa berberifolia,” I don’t think you would be nearly as impressed! Even if you were, the name “rose” sounds better than “rosa berberifolia“.)
To further prove my point, I offer you edited versions of the following famous (ie., taught in most English classes nationwide) poems:
From William Wordsworth’s “Daffodils”:
I wandered lonely as a cumulus
That floats on high o’er depressions with predominant extent in one direction and natural land elevations, usually less than 1000 feet above its surroundings, with a rounded outline.
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden Narcissus pseudonarcissi;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the air in slight motion relative to the earth.
From Robert Blake’s “The Tiger”:
Panthera Tigris! Panthera Tigris! Combusting bright
In the forest of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
From Tennyson’s “Come Spring” ( Excerpt from the second stanza):
Up leaps the passerine, gone wild to welcome the season beginning with the March equinox and ending with the summer solstice,
About her glance the Paridaes, and shriek the Cyanocitta cristatas,
Before her skims the jubilant Melanerpes erythrocephalus ,
The Carduelis cannabina’s bosom blushes at her gaze,
While round her brows a woodland Columba palumbus flits,
Watching her large light eyes and gracious looks,
And in her open palm a halcyon sits
Patient–the secret splendour of the brooks. …
They just don’t have the same ring to them, do they?
Have a great day everyone, a good holiday weekend!