PIRMAS SONETAS / 
W.Shakespeare / FROM fairest creatures we desire increase, / That thereby
beauty's rose might never die, / But as the riper should by time decease, /
His tender heir might bear his memory: / But thou, contracted to thine own
bright eyes, / Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, /
Making a famine where abundance lies, / Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self
too cruel. / Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament / And only herald
to the gaudy spring, / Within thine own bud buriest thy content / And,
tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding. / Pity the world, or else this
glutton be, / To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

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