11,112,006,825,558,016 Sonnets

(after Queneau)

When forty winters shall beseige thy brow,
No longer yours than you yourself here live:
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;
That use is not forbidden usury,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
When every private widow well may keep
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
No love toward others in that bosom sits
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

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