Analysis of Sonnet # 33

I want to kiss the moon eyes closed, lips wet.
With hands divine I want to touch the rose.
Then, women chaste and kind in tears beget
And finally the greatest poem compose.
For when I see the sun, my night which're cold,
I suffer much the truth of love I'm bare.
Then, in the glass I do my face behold
That does not know caress from hands that care.
Yes, why the man in looks a garden weed
For him the sadness of the not just eye?
If everyone when cut red bleeds indeed.
This bad does hurt, and then some tears I cry.
        A pretty word is love but then no kind
       To me as if I were of feelings blind.