Mi jardín secreto: Agosto

domingo, 6 de noviembre de 2016

Porque en tu rostro, en tus ojos,

En tu piel que acaricio,

Mi orgullo recojo,

Tarde, y tan lleno de vicio.

No una caricia indeleble,

Unos ojos, un rostro,

Ni mi alma está indemne

Tras verte: agosto.

"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.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

[W. Shakespeare]