William Shakespeare, Sonnet 1 |
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From fairest creatures we desire increase, |
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die, |
But as the riper should by time decease, |
His tender heir might bear his memory. |
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But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, |
Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel, |
Making a famine where abundance lies, |
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. |
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Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament. |
And only herald to the gaudy spring, |
Whithin thine own bud buriest thy content |
And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding. |
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Pity the world, or else this glutton be, |
To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee. |
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Verkinto de tiu ĉi Angla poemo estas William Shakespeare (*1564-04-13 - †1616-05-03). |