Kärlek håller. Man får det att hålla. Man anstränger sig. Man sviker inte. Man ser till att njuta. Man vill bli sån här:
Det var min oskalade, okokta variant av Sonnet 115:
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.
Oh, 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 his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
lördag 14 februari 2009
Vad är kärlek?
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