Sonnet XIX
de William Shakespeare(2005)
1 min lectură
Mediu
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion\'s paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger\'s jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
And do whate\'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O, carve not with thy hours my love\'s fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty\'s pattern to succeeding men.
Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.