๐ฆ๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ฒ๐ ๐ญ๐ด: ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฎ๐น๐น ๐ ๐ฐ๐ผ๐บ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ฒ ๐๐ต๐ฒ๐ฒ ๐๐ผ ๐ฎ ๐๐๐บ๐บ๐ฒ๐ฟ'๐ ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐? Shall I compare thee to a summerโs day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summerโs lease hath all too short a date; Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or natureโs changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou owโst; Nor shall death brag thou wanderโst in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growโst: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. โ William Shakespeare