|
- Soneto 17 de Shakespeare
Este arquivo ainda não foi avaliado.
Seja o primeiro! | |
||
|
Informações Adicionais: Soneto 17 de Shakespeare, recitado por uma voz masculina. Who will believe my verse in time to come If it were filled with your most high deserts? Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts: If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say this poet lies, Such heavenly touches ne\'er touched earthly faces. So should my papers (yellowed with their age) Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue, And your true rights be termed a poet\'s rage, And stretched metre of an antique song. But were some child of yours alive that time, You should live twice in it, and in my rhyme. Fonte: Archive Palavras-chave: LibriVox, deserto, túmulo, graça, vida, William Shakespeare. |
|
|
 3420  3 |
||
Os comentários são de propriedade de seus respectivos autores. Não somos responsáveis pelo seu conteúdo.
