Musicals' cuts, to be precise. Don't like musicals, don't look under the tag.
But first... damn you, Shakespeare!!
I gave myself a few minutes' break from creating an ultimately difficult exam and I visited tumblr (why oh why!), as usual, lots of mah baby pics to reblog, as always. While browsing the dash, I decided to trust Shakespeare on "how I feel now" oracle just for fun.
I'll never do it again.
This is what I got:
128: How oft when thou my musike musike playst
How oft when thou my musike musike playst,
Vpon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently swayst,
The wiry concord that mine eare confounds,
Do I enuie those Iackes that nimble leape,
To kisse the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poore lips which should that haruest reape,
At the woods bouldnes by thee blushing stand.
To be so tikled they would change their state,
And situation with those dancing chips,
Ore whome their fingers walke with gentle gate,
Making dead wood more blest then liuing lips,
Since sausie Iackes so happy are in this,
Giue them their fingers, me thy lips to kisse.
(more normal version under the cut)
How oft when thou my musike musike playst,
Vpon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently swayst,
The wiry concord that mine eare confounds,
Do I enuie those Iackes that nimble leape,
To kisse the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poore lips which should that haruest reape,
At the woods bouldnes by thee blushing stand.
To be so tikled they would change their state,
And situation with those dancing chips,
Ore whome their fingers walke with gentle gate,
Making dead wood more blest then liuing lips,
Since sausie Iackes so happy are in this,
Giue them their fingers, me thy lips to kisse.
(more normal version under the cut)
I think I need to raep my screen now.
(*Jjong, you bitch, you make me look like a weirdo in my friends' eyes!! Wait, they're all weirdoes too*)
(*Jjong, you bitch, you make me look like a weirdo in my friends' eyes!! Wait, they're all weirdoes too*)
Back to some sanity (wahahaa!!), I was... eeh... OK, one more time.
Few cuts that I haven't posted before.
here:
How oft when thou, my music, music play’st,
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway’st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap,
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips which should that harvest reap,
At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand.
To be so tickled they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips,
O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more blest than living lips,
Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.
