From Amanda Mabillard,
Your Guide to Shakespeare.
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• Annotations
  
• Paraphrase
  
• Commentary
  
• References
  
• Shakespearean Sonnet Basics
  

SONNET 147: PARAPHRASE
My love is like a fever, still longing,
For that which feeds the disease,
Feeding on that which prolongs the illness,
All to please the unhealthy desires of the body.
My reason, love's doctor,
Angry that I do not follow his directions,
Has left me, and desperate I find that desire
Leads to death, which physic (reason) will not allow.
Now reason is past caring, now I am past cure,
And I am frantic with continual unrest;
My thoughts and my words are like a madman's,
Lies foolishly uttered;
For I thought you were moral and bright (shining as a star),
But you really are black as hell and dark as night.