After the performances of A Midsummer Night's Dream, let's stay a little longer with Shakespeare... Last summer, I was dying to attend some kind of music, dance or theater festival but really couldn't afford it, so I decided to have my own little festival, and spent a couple of months reading nothing but Shakespeare. The Tempest is my favorite and the Sonnets of course are the most beautiful poems ever.
Here's Sonnet 116, which I'm posting for Pierre:
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.