blog de maraki

mon stress qui sort en rhume , en paleur, en ' je ne puis plus".
J'essaie mot à mot de me rappeller:
" My love is as a fever, longing still
for that which no longer nurseth the disease:
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
the uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason , the physician to my love, angry that his prescriptions are not kept
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
and frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
my thoughts and my discurse as madness are,
at random from the truth vainly express'd
for i have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell , as dark as night.

La journée splendide et toujours ensoleillée, je me meurs sans personne ..