Si sta come d' autunno sugli alberi le foglie.
martedì 29 maggio 2012
sabato 26 maggio 2012
Ah, sunflower.. W. Blake
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Ah! sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done;
Where the youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire;
Where my sunflower wishes to go.
Who countest the steps of the sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done;
Where the youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire;
Where my sunflower wishes to go.
Sonnet 130, W. Shakespeare
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks (...)
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks (...)
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