![](http://klab.lv/userpic/38033/194) honeybee | 14. Feb 2025 08:45 Sonnet 104: To me, fair friend, you never can be old
By William Shakespeare
To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned, Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand, Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived; So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived: For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred: Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.
Fun fact: pastāv diezgan valīda teorija, ka čalītis, kuram šis dzejolis veltīts, ļubestības sākumā ir bijis astoņpadsmitgadīgs, un, kā redzam, dzejolis runā par apmēram trīs gadu periodu. 4 raksta - ir doma |