letra de sonnet 63 - the marlowe society
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against my love shall be, as i am now
with time’s injurious hand crushed and o’erworn;
when hours have drained his blood, and filled his brow
with lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
hath travailed on to age’s steepy night
and all those beauties whereof now he’s king
are vanishing, or vanished out of sight
stealing away the treasure of his spring;
for such a time do i now fortify
against confounding age’s cruel knife
that he shall never cut from memory
my sweet love’s beauty, though my lover’s life
his beauty shall in these black lines bе seen
and they shall live, and he in thеm still green
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