dulce orquΓ­dea , Β· 1mo

🌼 Sonnet XV

When I consider everything that π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘€π‘ 
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘”π‘’ presenteth nought but shows
π‘Šπ˜©π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘œπ‘› π‘‘π˜©π‘’ π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘  𝑖𝑛 π‘ π‘’π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘šπ‘’π‘›π‘‘;

When I perceive that π‘šπ‘’π‘› π‘Žπ‘  π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  increase,
πΆπ˜©π‘’π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘π˜©π‘’π‘π‘˜'𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑦 π‘‘π˜©π‘’ π‘ π‘’π‘™π‘“π‘ π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’ π‘ π‘˜π‘¦,
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory;

Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
𝑆𝑒𝑑𝑠 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘šπ‘œπ‘ π‘‘ π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘π˜© 𝑖𝑛 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘‘π˜© π‘π‘’π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘šπ‘¦ π‘ π‘–π‘”π˜©π‘‘,
Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay
π‘‡π‘œ π‘π˜©π‘Žπ‘›π‘”π‘’ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘‘π˜© π‘‘π‘œ sullied π‘›π‘–π‘”π˜©π‘‘;

𝐴𝑛𝑑 π‘Žπ‘™π‘™ 𝑖𝑛 π‘€π‘Žπ‘Ÿ π‘€π‘–π‘‘π˜© π‘‡π‘–π‘šπ‘’ π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘™π‘œπ‘£π‘’ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’,
As he takes from you, 𝐼 π‘’π‘›π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘“π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑛𝑒𝑀. πŸ–‹οΈ

β€”Wm. Shakspere

QuΓ© magia posee tu pluma, incluso cuando replica las palabras de alguien mΓ‘s: todo lo que tocas lo conviertes en arte, cariΓ±o mΓ­o. Β«MiΒ» Shakespeareano favorito, ΒΏcuΓ‘ntas alegrΓ­as amarillas es capaz de aguantar una pobre alma prendada en un solo dΓ­a? Me vas poniendo a prueba β€”la sonrisa y el corazΓ³n. β™₯︎

@amorquideo
α… Ψ΄Ω…Ψ³ Β· 1mo

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