viernes, enero 04, 2013




SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
   If this be error and upon me proved,
   I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 



1 comentario:

Anónimo dijo...

Amar hasta el último aliento, es la cicatriz
Más profunda, sublime, pero intensa como un
Oleo lleno de color, expresando sentimientos, pensamientos y emociones con otra visión,
Rompiendo cualquier barrera, la cual no he permitido que rebase ni rompa la mía……………….