4
de William Shakespeare(2005)
1 min lectură
Mediu
Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thyself thy beauty\'s legacy?
Nature\'s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
And being frank, she lends to those are free:
Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost decieve:
Then how, when Nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
Thy unused beauty must be tomb\'d with thee,
Which, used, lives th\'executor to be.