Death, be not proud by John Donne

Holy Sonnets: Death, be not proud

BY JOHN DONNE

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Paraphrase of the Poem Death Be not Proud

O! Death! Do not be arrogant, Although some men of letters have called you immensely powerful, Death! You are not as mighty and intimidating as you seem. Because, the people that you think you have overcome, actually don't die nor can you kill me, O! Poor Death! From rest and sleep, which is your real picture, much pleasure arises. And that is why, our best men go with you very soon. After death, their bones get rest and their soul is delivered to a new body to get reincarnation. You are slave to fate, luck and chance, kings and desperate men. And you live with poison, war and illness. Opium and magic too can make us sleep even much better than you lull us to sleep. Why are you so proud of yourself? You are only a short sleep but we wake up eternally because we become souls and there shall be no death then because the soul is immortal. O! Death! When we become souls, you shall die. Therefore, do not be proud, Death, for your power is limited, and your reign is temporary.


Location: Satna, Madhya Pradesh, India

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