domingo, 7 de fevereiro de 2010

Poema do domingo

The queen, my lord, is dead.

She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.

Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

2 comentários:

Mr X disse...

Bem, não é exatamente um poema. Cena teatral do domingo?

Confetti não gostou.

c* disse...

the queen is dead

god save the queen !


chose, vc prefere marie stuart ou elisabeth 1ère ?