To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
(Vaktin varken gül goncalarını topla,
Eski zamanlar hâlâ uçup gidiyor;
Ve bugün gülümseyen bu çiçek
Yarın ölüyor olabilir.)
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.
(Gökyüzünün görkemli lambası, güneş,
Ne kadar yükselirse,
Yarışı ne kadar çabuk biterse,
Ve batmaya daha da yaklaşıyor.)
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
(En uygun yaş, ilk yaştır.
Gençlik ve kan daha sıcakken;
Ama tükenmiş olmak, daha da kötüsü, en kötüsü.
“Kötü bir anıyı unutmanın en iyi yolu güzel bir tanesiyle değişmektir.”
"You walked, by chance, into a life I wasn't proud of, and from that day something started to change. I have breathed better, I have hated less, I have freely admired what was meant to be.
Before you, without you, I adored nothing.
With you, I have accepted more things, I have learned to live. That's probably why I've always mixed my love with so much gratitude."
// Albert Camus to Maria Casarés Correshandence
But ı am girl..
All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant
Just an appendage, live to attend him
So that he never lifts a finger
24/7 baby machine
So he can live out his picket-fence dreams
It's not an act of love if you make her
You make me do too much labour
