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На днях по наводке Аси Патрышевой приобрёл тут в магазине шоколадку от компании Хохох. Не для того, чтобы есть (я шоколад не ем), а оттого, что там изнутри они печатают рандомные стихотворения. Вот это показалось ужасно интересным. Что мне выпадет? Прямо как китайские печенья с бумажками, только уровнем посложнее.
И действительно, на обороте нашлись стихи. И это был 17 сонет Шекспира.
Его ещё поди пойми, не говоря о том, чтобы как-то трактовать.
Sonnet 17
Who will believe my verse in time to come
If it were filled with your most high deserts?
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say, 'This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces.'
So should my papers (yellowed with their age)
Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be termed a poet's rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice, in it and in my rhyme.
( и што всё это значит )
И действительно, на обороте нашлись стихи. И это был 17 сонет Шекспира.
Его ещё поди пойми, не говоря о том, чтобы как-то трактовать.
Sonnet 17
Who will believe my verse in time to come
If it were filled with your most high deserts?
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say, 'This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces.'
So should my papers (yellowed with their age)
Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be termed a poet's rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice, in it and in my rhyme.
( и што всё это значит )
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