“Let me Not to the Marriage of True Minds” by William Shakespeare (Lasa ma nu la Casatoria de Mintele Adevarat)

Buna Seara. Sper ca tot este bine cu tine in ziua de azi. (Good evening. I hope that everthing is fine for you today.)  Azi, am fost foarte ocupat, dar m-am gandit sa scriu ceva aici in limba romana oricum. (Today, I was very busy, but I thought I would right something in Romanian here anyway.)  Stiu ca oameni din Romania intru adevar lor le place poezi, asa am decis sa trimec un pic de poezi. (I know that people from romania really like poetry, so I have decided to send a little poetry.) Astazi, trimesc unul de William Shakespeare se cheama “Lasa ma nu la Casatoria de Mintele Adevarat.” (Today I send out one by William Shakespeare called “Let me not to the marriage of true minds.”)

Lasa ma nu la Casatoria de Mintele Adevarat

Let me Not to the Marriage of True Minds

adult blur bridal bride
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Lasa ma nu la casatoria de mintele adevarat

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

broken heart love sad
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Spun ca este adevarat ca cand este blocat, iubirea nu este iubirea

Admit impediments, love is not love

ce schimba cand gaseste o schimbarea.

which alters when it alteration finds.

woman wearing white long sleeve dress
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Sau curba cu el barbat ce retraje y retraje

Or bends with the remover to remove

photo of person holding black pen
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Nu! Este un loc fix intotdeauna

Oh, no! it is an ever fixed mark.

focus photography of sea waves
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ce care se uite la tormenta si niciodata es turbulat

that looks on tempests and is never shaken.

scenic view of mountains against sky at night
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Este o stea pentru fiecare ratacitor pom

It is the star for every wandering bark,

pe care valuare niemeni stie, chair daca altime a lui sa fie intins

Whose worth unknown, although his height be taken

clear glass with red sand grainer
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Iubirea nu este cineva prosta, chair si daca are buzanar y obraz roz

Love is not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Inintru sesera curbata a lui busola vine;

Within his bending sickle’s compass comes;

Iubirea nu schima cand horele sau septamanele lui  sunt scurte

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

Dar se duce total chair pana la margina sa fie condamnata.

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

Daca asta fie o greseala si de asupra de mine dovedit

If this be error and upon me proved

Eu niciodata scris nimic sau nici un barbat a uibit

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.


midsection of woman making heart shape with hands
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