domingo, 22 de outubro de 2006

Shakespeare - Sonnets 30

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought,
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:

Then can I drown an eye (unused to flow)
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancelled woe,
And moan th' expense of many a vanished sight.

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee (dear friend)
All losses are restored, and sorrows end.

William Shakespeare

1 comentários:

sefernandes disse...

Lindo soneto!!! Apreciaria uma melhor compreensão da frase: The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
se possível for.
Sergio Fernandes