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Ophelia - Original Poem

Something about the great William Shakespeare that has always resonated with me is the fact that nobody knows the day he was born. Historians know he was baptised on April 26th 1564 and thus they assume he was born around 3 days prior on April 23rd. April 23rd is also the day he died in 1616, within a month of signing his will which described him as being in "perfect health". He was 52 years old. Today is April 23rd, so I had to have a Shakespeare-related post.


In my second year of University we had a Shakespeare Studies module which, had the COVID-19 pandemic not happened, would have entailed a week-long trip to Stratford-upon-Avon. Missing out was disheartening, especially when the trip was one of the reasons I'd been so excited to study at Birmingham. I've been to Stratford before but never for more than a day trip. When I was younger, my family and I visited the town once a summer; we would venture to the Butterfly Farm, go boating and trek through the markets. My favourite thing about Stratford though, of course, is Shakespeare's Birthplace. When I was 18, on a school trip, I purchased a pencil from the RSC gift shop that said '2B or not 2B' on the side. Very overpriced, but I have no regrets. That quotation 'to be or not to be' comes from Hamlet - the titular character contemplates suicide as he says the line in a soliloquy at the beginning of the play. He is lamenting the death of his father and venting his horror at his mother Gertrude, who has decided to marry his uncle, Claudius.


Hamlet's love interest is Ophelia, who is depicted in her death in the above oil painting by Sir John Everett Millais. The audience doesn't actually see Ophelia die though in her final scene, she appears to have driven herself into madness as a result of believing Hamlet has fallen out of love with her. She tells the audience she is collecting the 'willow', 'nettle' and 'daisy' that she lays beside in her passing, plants symbolic of forsaken love and grief. In the play, Hamlet and Horatio visit the churchyard and the titular character ponders who has died upon hearing the 'maimed' funeral being performed. I decided to alter the storyline for my below poem - I imagined how Hamlet would grieve Ophelia if he were to discover her body in the lake and how he would regret his treatment of her.



Oh, it hurts again.


The familiar tugging of the chest


When regret first made its nest


You went mad, they suggest


My bride to be


Her fairness and fragility


Lost in the serene of the stream


My darling Ophelia


The rapacious daydreamer


How I hoped


In your yearning


You’d see through my turnings


My twists were unsealed


My fair Ophelia


Oh, how I wish you’d told me!


Perhaps you did


And I speedily shut the lid on your cries


Dismissed them as though they were lies


And now you have died




You lay still and blue


In the lake


And in your wake


They are finding the art in your demise


Like the lady of the lake


Except you will never rise



My Ophelia


The weeds claim you as their own


As I walk this ground


Forever alone





Happy Birthday to the big man himself!

See you next week,

Karisma xx

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