in mijn literatuurboek van engels staan d'r wel een paar...
Eentje daarvan:
Sonnet 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing litke the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun*;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd**, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,-
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied*** with false compare.
William Shakespeare
* greyish/brown
** With different coloured markings
*** Showed to be untrue
Andere zijn: sonnet 7 van Sir Thomas Wyatt en From Amoretti: Sonnet XV door Edmund Spenser.
Als je ze nodig hebt maar niet kunt vinden, moet je het maar zeggen.
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Ik ga links want ik moet rechts. En we gaan nog niet naar huis.
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