Elizabeth Barrett-Browning's Sonnet 22

I have been working on a project for a while now, about plastic language & how love poems are never original, really. It means I mess around with Elizabeth Barrett-Browning’s Sonnets from the Portuguese. 

Today I was doing that with my favourite (Sonnet 22) and ran it through Google Translate. It was too good not to share it.

SONNET 22 (original)

When our two souls stand up erect and strong,

Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,

Until the lengthening wings break into fire

At either curvèd point,—what bitter wrong

Can the earth do to us, that we should not long

Be here contented? Think! In mounting higher,

The angels would press on us and aspire

To drop some golden orb of perfect song

Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay

Rather on earth, Belovèd,—where the unfit

Contrarious moods of men recoil away

And isolate pure spirits, and permit

A place to stand and love in for a day,

With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.


(english>portuguese> azerbaijani>dutch>gujarati>korean>thai>english)

Ascension by two strong.

Private and quiet nigher approach.

How long will the light in the wings.

— Inflection point of pain or incorrect.

We can put a lot of effort.

Do you agree? What do you think? Maximum height.

We fought and his angels.

Music of some gold.

I deeply love.

By contrast, land, love, — is incorrect.

Male emotion face counter again.

Allow the alcohol.

One day, you can live and love.

Time of darkness and death of the individual.