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)