The Week Before:
Sonnet 138:
Soneto 138, de William Shakespeare:
When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearned in the world´s false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
although she knows my days are past the best,
simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore says not I that I am old?
O, love´s best habit is in seeming trust,
and age in love loves not to have years told.
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
and in our faults by lies we flattered be.
(Mi amor jura que dice la verdad.
Siempre la creo, aunque sé que miente...)
sábado, 15 de marzo de 2008
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