El Bardo de Stratford

Tras el (breve) paréntesis germánico, retornamos a la lengua suprema entre todas las lenguas. Y que mejor forma de hacerlo que a través de mi amigo William. Como todos los buenos amigos (no importa la distancia de las millas o de los siglos) en ocasiones me sorprendo escuchando mis propias palabras saliendo de su boca.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no! It is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come.
Love alters not with its brief hours and weeks,
But bends it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.