(no subject)

130-й сонет Шекспира в исполнении Алана Рикмана.

А по спине маршируют армии мурашек.

By William Shakespeare

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses demasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

( Перевод под кат, ибо ужасен. Но хоть что-то ) )