Acabas de ponerme los dientes largos, guille
Dejo el enlace a la web del King's College London, que alberga el London Shakespeare Centre y Shakespeare400, a ver si nos enteramos de algo más
William Shakespeare
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Re: William Shakespeare
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Earth without Art is just Eh
Earth without Art is just Eh
Re: William Shakespeare
No te preocupes, sigues estando muy guapa .natura escribió: Acabas de ponerme los dientes largos, guille
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- bartlebycubano
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Re: William Shakespeare
¿Han visto las obras de teatro de Shakespeare adaptadas, como noveladas? Yo tengo un libro, de una editorial cubana, que de esa manera incluye varias de sus obras de teatro más importantes.
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Re: William Shakespeare
para tener a mano este hilo y con él todos los enlaces a sus obras.
Non sopporto piú le persone che mi annoiano anche pochissimo e mi fanno perdere anche solo un secondo di vita. Goffredo Parise
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Re: William Shakespeare
Últimamente me encuentro referencia a Shakespeare en muchas obras de las que leo. Y entiendo mejor su transcendencia, ahora que lo he leído un poquito más.
Sonnet 147: My Love Is As A Fever Longing Still
My love is as a fever longing still,
For that which longer nurseth the disease;
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed;
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
https://nosweatshakespeare.com/sonnets/147/For that which longer nurseth the disease;
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed;
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.