#thomaswyatt

'Whoso List to Hunt, I Know where is an Hind' by Sir Thomas Wyatt

𝘞𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥,

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘴, 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦:

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘦,

𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥.

𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥

𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦

𝘍𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸. 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦,

𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥.

𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵, 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵,

𝘈𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵:

𝘕𝘰𝘭𝘪 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘊𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳'𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘮,

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘦.

This sonnet is a loose translation of a poem by the fourteenth-century Italian poet Petrarch, and is one of the earliest sonnets in all English literature.

A sonnet is a type of poem which contains fourteen lines using any of a number of formal rhyme schemes. The word sonnet is derived from the Italian word “sonetto,” which means a “little song” or small lyric.

This fact, however, isn’t what draws the majority of people to this poem, the person whom it may be about does.

This poem— along with many other of Wyatts poems, is said to be about Anne Boleyn, the second wife of Henry VIII. In this reading, ‘Caesar’ clearly refers to Henry himself, the all-powerful ruler who ‘owns’ Anne, who is portrayed as the ‘hind’.

The poem starts of by completing love to a “hunt.” Wyatt writes himself as though one of several hunters, attempting to hunt down [pursue] a “hind”— a dear, which is likely to symbolize Anne Boleyn, as the hunters represent the men attempting to peruse her.

Wyatt starts off the poem inviting anyone to come hunt the dear, telling the reader that he knows where to find one. 

“𝘞𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥,”

Wyatt writes that he is physically and emotionally exhausted from the “hunt” and is “𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥.” But he also writes that despite the exhaustion, he still attempts to hunt.

“𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦

𝘍𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸. 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦,

𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥. “

Wyatt then writes that the hunt will leave the other hunters just as tired and depressed as he, and that the hunt has wasted his time. Wyatt explains that any one who attempts to hunt the dear will fail as he did. 

“𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵, 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵,

𝘈𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯.”

the poem is Wyatt admitting defeat, as he is is unable to hunt the hind. In the last three lines it is exposed that the deer is already ‘owned’ by Caesar. 

“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵:

𝘕𝘰𝘭𝘪 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘊𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳'𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘮,

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘦.”

As stated previously, Caesar is believed to be Henry VIII as both leaders are easily comparable, and Anne the deer. Wyatt depicts Anne as saying, “Do not touch me, for i am Henry’s”. Which accurately shows that Henry won the hunt.

Here is the poem with the original 16th century spelling:

𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘺𝘯𝘥𝘦, 

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴, 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘦, 

𝘐 𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦. 

𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺𝘯𝘥𝘦 

𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘦: 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 

𝘍𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦. 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 

𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘺𝘯𝘥𝘦. 

𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵, 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘵𝘦, 

𝘈𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘺𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯. 

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘦:

 ‘𝘕𝘰𝘭𝘪 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘊𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘺𝘭𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘦’. 

ೃ༄

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Những ngày đổ máu đã làm tan vỡ trái tim ta,

Sự thèm khát, tuổi trẻ của ta đã ra đi.  

Vì trí thông minh của nàng, nhiều người đàn ông sẽ hối tiếc,  

Và như vậy, nhiều người vẫn sẽ khóc than.  

Thật là mất mát lớn lao rằng nàng đã chết và ra đi.  

Thời gian nàng đã có trên ngôi vị khốn khổ,

Trước khi bạn nàng khóc than.  

Một cành thối rữa từ trên cây cao, 

Đã trượt khỏi tay và nàng đã chết.  

Và ra đi...

Những ngày đổ máu đã làm tan vỡ trái tim ta.  

Sự thèm khát, tuổi trẻ của ta đã ra đi.  

Khát vọng mù quáng của những linh hồn tham vọng.  

Của những con người vội vã trèo lên rồi tìm kiếm sự trở lại.  

Của ngai vàng và sấm sét.  

-----------------------------  

These bloody days have broken my heart,  

My lust, my youth did them apart.  

For your wit alone many man would bemoan,  

And since it is so, many still cry aloud.  

It is great loss that you are dead and gone,  

A time you had above your poor degree,  

Before where of your friends may well bemoan,  

A rotten twig upon so hight a tree has slipped your hold, and you are dead 

And gone.  

These bloody days have broken my heart,  

My lust, my youth did them depart.  

And blind desire of ambitious souls,  

Who haste to climb seeks to revert and about the throne  

The thunder rolls.