Há poemas que ficam!!

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Meditations on Turning Eight
by Lisa Simpson

I had a cat named Snowball
She died! She died!
Mom said she was sleeping
She lied! She lied!
Why oh why is my cat dead?
Couldn't that Chrysler hit me instead?
I had a hamster named Snuffy
He died...
(at this point, Homer interrupts and the rest of the poem is unheard)

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Sonnet 47

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Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, And each doth good turns now unto the other: When that mine eye is famish'd for a look, Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother, With my love's picture then my eye doth feast And to the painted banquet bids my heart; Another time mine eye is my heart's guest And in his thoughts of love doth share a part: So, either by thy picture or my love, Thyself away art resent still with me; For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move, And I am still with them and they with thee; Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight. Shakespeare, Sonnet 47 (Inglês currente: Between my eyes and heart a pact is made, And they each now do good things for the other: When my eyes are starved for a look (at you), Or my heart smothers itself with sighs, On my love's picture my eyes do feast And my eyes call my heart to this beautiful picture; Another ...
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