Februāris 14., 2025

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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 teica | man šķiet, ir tā...)

Comments:

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From:[info]dienasgramata
Date:14. Februāris 2025 - 09:30
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your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand
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From:[info]honeybee
Date:14. Februāris 2025 - 09:52
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kurš lasa Šekspīru ar krievu akcentu, m? :D
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From:[info]annuska
Date:14. Februāris 2025 - 12:39
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:)))
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From:[info]iive
Date:14. Februāris 2025 - 16:03
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Nu, es jau gaidīju pančlainu, ka kādi 18 ir tas vecūkšņa laiks! Bet tāpat sirsnīgi.
honeybee -

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