tirto.id - Valentine Day tahun ini jatuh pada tanggal 14 Februari 2022, pada hari Senin. Untuk merayakan Hari Kasih Sayang ini biasanya orang akan bertukar bunga, hadiah, atau puisi. Kasih sayang bisa diwujudkan dengan berbagai hal, tak hanya pemberian hadiah, tetapi juga bisa dengan meluangkan waktu khusus untuk orang tersayang.
Dahulu, Valentine tidak dirayakan secara khusus sebagai hari kasih sayang, tetapi seiring berjalannya waktu, perayaan ini dibuat menjadi romantis. Sastrawan Chaucer dan Shakespeare meromantisasikannya dalam karya mereka, dan itu mendapatkan popularitas di seluruh Inggris dan seluruh Eropa.
Mengutip NPR, tulisan yang dibuat kedua pujangga itu mengisi kartu-kartu Valentine yang mulai populer. Akhirnya, tradisi itu sampai ke Dunia Baru. Revolusi industri mengantarkan kartu buatan pabrik di abad ke-19. Dan pada tahun 1913, Hallmark Cards of Kansas City, Mo., mulai memproduksi valentine secara massal.
Dan begitulah perayaan Hari Valentine berlangsung, dengan cara yang bervariasi. Orang akan membeli perhiasan dan bunga untuk kekasih mereka. Bagi yang jomblo, hari kasih sayang bisa dirayakan dengan kerabat atau saudara, atau bahkan diri sendiri.
Mereka biasanya akan melakukan "me time" dengan makan sendiri d restoran enak dan menikmati cokelat yang dihadiahkan sendiri. Bagi Anda yang ingin memberikan ucapan Valentine bagi orang terkasih dengan puisi, berikut ini beberapa puisi soal cinta karya penyair terkenal yang bisa Anda kutip, dilansir Academy of American Poets.
Puisi Valentine Day
Puisi cinta populer, dari klasik hingga kontemporer cocok untuk dibagikan di hari pernikahan dan peringatan, pada Hari Valentine, dan sepanjang tahun. Puisi-puisi ini sangat cocok untuk mengungkapkan cinta romantis, persahabatan yang indah, atau cinta yang rumit.
1. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? (Sonnet 18) William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
2. What Was Told, That Jalal al-Din Rumi (1207-1273)
What was said to the rose that made it open was said
to me here in my chest.
What was told the cypress that made it strong
and straight, what was
whispered the jasmine so it is what it is, whatever made
sugarcane sweet, whatever
was said to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil in
Turkestan that makes them
so handsome, whatever lets the pomegranate flower blush
like a human face, that is
being said to me now. I blush. Whatever put eloquence in
language, that's happening here.
The great warehouse doors open; I fill with gratitude,
chewing a piece of sugarcane,
in love with the one to whom every that belongs!
3. somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond E. E. Cummings (1894-1962)
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
4. The More Loving One W. H. Auden (1907-1973)
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.
5. How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43) Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Editor: Yantina Debora
