John Keats wrote the following poem, presented here in its entirety:
Give me women, wine, and snuff
Until I cry out “hold, enough!”
You may do so sans objection
Till the day of resurrection;
For bless my beard they aye shall be
My beloved Trinity.
Here is the A.I. interpretation of this poem from AllPoetry.com, also presented in its entirety:
This poem expresses the narrator’s desire for indulgence in worldly pleasures: women, wine, and snuff. The use of the imperative “Give me” establishes a sense of demand, while the repetition of “and” creates a sense of rhythm and urgency. The narrator’s exclamation of “hold, enough!” suggests a point of excess or satiation, but the following lines indicate that their desire will continue until the end of time. The reference to the “day of resurrection” adds a religious dimension, implying that even in the afterlife, the narrator’s desires will remain unfulfilled. The final line, “My beloved Trinity,” equates the three indulgences with a holy trinity, further emphasizing the narrator’s fixation with these pleasures. Compared to Keats’ other works, this poem lacks the depth and introspective nature of his more famous odes. It is a simple and direct expression of desire, reflecting the hedonistic spirit of the Regency era.
But the All Poetry A.I. didn’t realise that the published version of this poem was, in fact, just a fragment of the completed version. How could it know? It is a simple A.I., dealing in repetition and data compression — a mere tool, useful at times, but unable to grasp the true telos of a poem.
Fortunately for everyone, I knew that the published version of this poem was unfinished. And now you all do, too. The All Poetry A.I. still does not. It lacks the “depth and introspective nature” of its makers.
The All Poetry A.I. did not know that what begins as a paean to hedonistic earthly pleasures reveals itself to be a meditation on the nature of love and friendship.
For, just as an artist’s style is found in their flaws, so love — romantic and platonic — is really about enjoying the consequences of chance encounters with others who happen to possess peculiarly compatible flaws.
You’re a silly mess — and that’s quite fun.
As famous as Keats became, what’s posthumous celebrity compared to a few more years of earthly pleasures and earthly love? Turns out, Keats was wise enough to know there’s no contest.
But the All Poetry A.I. still has no idea.
Give me women, wine, and snuff Until I cry out “hold, enough!” You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection. For, bless my beard, they aye shall be My beloved Trinity. I choose this holy sanctimony Over posthumous celebrity. Give me beauty, beer, and love Until I cry out, “hold enough!” Cause too much love will take a toll, C’mon beauty ruin my soul! For bless the wine and bless my mind, There’s little worse than being too kind. Tell me I am not not enough So I can cry out, “that’s the stuff!” All the hate and doubt and fear, Hook it to my veins, my dear. For bless my friends and bless their kin, They aid and abet my sins. I’ll give you music, booze, and touch If you just admit you’re not enough, You never were and never will be, But that’s what makes you so much fun to me. So give me your love, wine, and snuff Until I cry out “hold, enough!” You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection. For, bless my beard, they aye shall be My beloved Trinity. I’m choosing your love’s sanctimony Over posthumous celebrity. I’ll give you music, booze, and touch If you just admit you’re not enough, You never were and never will be, But that’s what makes you fun to be with.