Shakespeare on Love
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.(Romeo and Juliet, 2.2.121-2)
If you will die for me, I will die for you and our graves will be like two lovers washing their clothes together in a laundromat If you will bring the soap I will bring the bleach.
Remember not the pathos of our plightOr the tears of our too-youthful end.Mourn us not, for we became a light,Eden shining still through deathless night,On all who first pure love would comprehend. Judge us not, although we chose to die,Undone by beauty such as few have known,Love so perfect one could not replyIn words less meteoric than its own.Each life must wend its way towards death and pain.Though we died young, our story will remain.
If you will die for me, I will die for you and our graves will be like two lovers washing their clothes together in a laundromat If you will bring the soap I will bring the bleach.
Remember not the pathos of our plightOr the tears of our too-youthful end.Mourn us not, for we became a light,Eden shining still through deathless night,On all who first pure love would comprehend. Judge us not, although we chose to die,Undone by beauty such as few have known,Love so perfect one could not replyIn words less meteoric than its own.Each life must wend its way towards death and pain.Though we died young, our story will remain.
posted by ° f®ôG²ïë ° §mï|ésÞ at 2:05 AM 
<< Home