Helena Bonham Carter, Rufus Wainwright, Martha Wainwright, Fiora — Unperfect Actor (Sonnet 23)
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Текст Helena Bonham Carter, Rufus Wainwright, Martha Wainwright, Fiora — Unperfect Actor (Sonnet 23)
As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put besides his part
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay
O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might
O let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed
O learn to read what silent love hath writ!
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit
As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put besides his part
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay
O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might
As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put besides his part
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay
O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might
As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put besides his part
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay
O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might
O let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed
O learn to read what silent love hath writ!
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit
