Sonnet 3: Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another,
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose uneared womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
But if thou live remembered not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.
William Shakespeare
Vous avez aimé cette poésie ? faites la connaître !
D'autres poésies de William Shakespeare
Sonnet 29: When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes
When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone...
Sonnet 28: How can I then return in happy plight
How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the...
Sonnet 27: Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear respose...
Sonnet 26: Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath my...
Sonnet 25: Let those who are in favour with their stars
Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public...
Sonnet 24: Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
Thy...
Sonnet 23: As an unperfect actor on the stage
As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is...
Sonnet 22: My glass shall not persuade me I am old
My glass shall not persuade me I am old
So long as youth...
Sonnet 21: So is it not with me as with that muse
So is it not with me as with that muse,
Stirred by a...
Sonnet 20: A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
Hast thou,...
Précédentes poésies
Young in New Orleans
starving there, sitting around the bars,
and at night...
Yes Yes
when God created love he didn't help most
when God created...
Writing
often it is the only
thing
between you and
Working Out
Van Gogh cut off his ear
gave it to a
prostitute
Who In The Hell Is Tom Jones?
I was shacked with a ...
