Ya están aquí...
las 30 velas y para celebrarlo, les regalo un soneto de mi autor preferido...
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd,red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Sonnet 130
2004-03-23 01:00 | 3 Comentarios
Referencias (TrackBacks)
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Dear Sirs
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¿Ein? |
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Y yo qué sé XDDDD |
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