Sonnet 72: O, lest the world should task you to recite
O, lest the world should task you to recite
What merit lived in me that you should love
After my death, dear love, forget me quite;
For you in me can nothing worthy prove
Unless you would devise some virtuous lie
To do more for me than mine own desert,
And hang more praise upon deceasèd I
Than niggard truth would willingly impart.
O, lest your true love may seem false in this,
That you for love speak well of me untrue,
My name be buried where my body is,
And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
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 ...
