Sonnet CXXXVIII
When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.
26 Апреля 2024Международный день интеллектуальной собственностиМеждународный день памяти жертв радиационных аварий и катастроф
28 Апреля 2024Всемирный день охраны труда
30 Апреля 2024День пожарной охраны
1 Мая 2024Праздник труда (День труда)
Все праздники