A Sonnet, annotated.

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 dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st 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.

About me edit

I'm a citizen of the United States and Kingdom, living in England and working towards a doctorate in astrophysics.

Feel free to contact me on my talk page with requests, comments or anything else and I'll reply in the same place, unless you request otherwise. I'm particularly willing to help new editors who have problems or questions, or with requests that require an admin, like viewing deleted pages.

My interests on Wikipedia edit

As far as content-writing goes, I'm best-qualified to edit articles on astronomy, mathematics and various other bits of science - but in practice I tend to end up editing in more surprising places. I've also done quite a bit of exciting maintenance work.

"Olaf Davis" is my unified login on all Wikimedia projects. So far as I remember the most significant contributions I've made outside the English Wikipedia are uploading something to Commons and a very little on the Dutch Wikipedia. Mijn Nederlands is niet zo goed, maar ik oefen het graag. Je mag wel 'hoi' zeggen als je dat wilt!

Articles I've created or significantly improved edit

A Sonnet, with apologies.

My mistress shines, no nothing like the sun;
Britannica's seen decades for her every year.
If FAs be white, why then her stubs are dun;
If links be wires, red wires sprout forth from her.
I have seen printed pages, free from vandal fight,
But no such unscarred paper find I here;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the edit wars that mark my mistress dear.
I love to read her words, yet well I know
That literature hath far more pleasing tone;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress birthed from mortal man alone:

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Current / potential projects edit

New articles / major planned work edit

  • Void cosmologies

Pictures for edit

Check back on edit

Useful links edit

Things to read edit

Subsidiary 'Watchlists' edit

My Subpages edit

External edit

Signpost and RfA Watch edit

RfA candidate S O N S% Ending (UTC) Time left Dups? Report
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No RfXs since 18:06, 16 February 2024 (UTC).—cyberbot ITalk to my owner:Online