SonetosEditorial Renacimiento, 2004 - 327 pages |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 28
Page 21
... eres hoy fresco adorno del mundo y heraldo de brillante primavera , en tu capullo sumes tu contento ; tierno patán , al ahorrar malgastas . Ten piedad del mundo , o devoraréis , entre la tumba y tú , lo que es del mundo . WHEN forty ...
... eres hoy fresco adorno del mundo y heraldo de brillante primavera , en tu capullo sumes tu contento ; tierno patán , al ahorrar malgastas . Ten piedad del mundo , o devoraréis , entre la tumba y tú , lo que es del mundo . WHEN forty ...
Page 25
... eres su espejo , a aquel dichoso abril , su primavera : así , aunque ya arrugado , tú verás , pasando la vejez , tu edad de oro . Mas si no quieres tú que te recuerden , muere soltero y morirá tu imagen . UNTHRIFTY loveliness , why dost ...
... eres su espejo , a aquel dichoso abril , su primavera : así , aunque ya arrugado , tú verás , pasando la vejez , tu edad de oro . Mas si no quieres tú que te recuerden , muere soltero y morirá tu imagen . UNTHRIFTY loveliness , why dost ...
Page 31
... diez de ti diez veces te copiaran . ¿ Qué podría la Muerte , si al partir dejases tu linaje perviviendo ? Hazme caso : eres demasiado hermoso para ser de la Muerte y los gusanos . Lo ! in the orient when the gracious light Lifts 31 VI.
... diez de ti diez veces te copiaran . ¿ Qué podría la Muerte , si al partir dejases tu linaje perviviendo ? Hazme caso : eres demasiado hermoso para ser de la Muerte y los gusanos . Lo ! in the orient when the gracious light Lifts 31 VI.
Page 39
... no amor ? Sé cual semejas ser , gracioso , amable , o prueba que eres fiel hacia ti mismo . Haz de ti otro ser , por amor a mí ; que viva la beldad en ti o en los tuyos . As fast as thou shalt wane , so fast thou 39 X.
... no amor ? Sé cual semejas ser , gracioso , amable , o prueba que eres fiel hacia ti mismo . Haz de ti otro ser , por amor a mí ; que viva la beldad en ti o en los tuyos . As fast as thou shalt wane , so fast thou 39 X.
Page 44
... might uphold Against the stormy gusts of winter's day And barren rage of death's eternal cold ? O , none but unthrifts ! Dear my love , you know You had a father : let your son say so . ¡ QUE tú fueses tú mismo ! Mas lo eres 44 XIII.
... might uphold Against the stormy gusts of winter's day And barren rage of death's eternal cold ? O , none but unthrifts ! Dear my love , you know You had a father : let your son say so . ¡ QUE tú fueses tú mismo ! Mas lo eres 44 XIII.
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
alma amigo amor aún beauty beauty's belleza bello best better bueno cielo corazón creo cruel days dead dear decir deja dost doth dulce entonces eres eyes face fair false faltas fiel find give good grace halla hand hate hath have heart hermoso joven leave life live long look love love's made make mejor mente mind mine mirada more muerte mundo Muse name Natura never night noche nombre nuevo ojos olvido palabras paso perdido place poemas poesía poeta praise prove puro quieres rich roba rosas rostro Shakespeare shall show sight sombra sonetos sweet take tell tema then they thine things thou art though thoughts thyself time Time's tongue Traducción true truth tus ojos verdad verso vista vive will world worth write your
Popular passages
Page 206 - They that have power to hurt, and will do none, That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow ; They rightly do inherit heaven's graces, And husband nature's riches from expense ; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others but stewards of their excellence.
Page 160 - Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it ; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe. O...
Page 250 - 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.
Page 170 - Why is my verse so barren of new pride, So far from variation or quick change ? Why, with the time, do I not glance aside To new-found methods and to compounds strange ? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, • That every word doth almost tell my name, Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
Page 126 - LIV O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses; But, for their virtue only is their show, They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade, Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so; Of their sweet deaths are...
Page 164 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Page 146 - When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate, That Time will come and take my love away. This thought is as a death, which cannot choose But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
Page 78 - And moan the expense of many a vanish'd 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.
Page 190 - Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew ? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead ? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him aid, my verse astonished.