Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
and summer’s lease hath all too short a date;
sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
and often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
and every fair from fair sometime declines,
by chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
nor shall death brag thou wander’s in his shade,
when in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:
so long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
so long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
William Shakespeare. England (1564-1616)