Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, Guiltie of dust and sinne. But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning, If I lack’d any thing.
A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here: Love said, You shall be he. I the unkinde, ungratefull? Ah my deare, I cannot look on thee. Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, Who made the eyes but I?
Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame Go where it doth deserve. And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame? My deare, then I will serve. You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat: So I did sit and eat.
Gulp! Não vi o link. E a transcrição não está formalmente correcta, mas o 1633 sim, e o poema, ao que se sabe será também do ano da sua morte. E o homem era padre caray.
:-)
ResponderEliminarque dúvida. vou voltar ao XVIDEOs. até milord
ResponderEliminar1633
ResponderEliminarLove. (III)
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lack’d any thing.
A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungratefull? Ah my deare,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?
Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.
Gulp! Não vi o link. E a transcrição não está formalmente correcta, mas o 1633 sim, e o poema, ao que se sabe será também do ano da sua morte. E o homem era padre caray.
ResponderEliminarE o Houellebecq, enfim!, ganhou o Goncourt.
ResponderEliminarE o Houellebecq, enfim!, ganhou o Goncourt.
ResponderEliminarO gerente desta taberna só lê gringos.