20201214 Monday
Sonnet 39
O! How thy worth with manners may I sing,
When thou art all the better part of me?
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee?
Even for this, let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give
That due to thee which thou deserv’st alone.
O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave,
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly dothdeceive,
And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
By praising him here who doth hence remain.
Song of Emmet Till by Bob Dylan
Plaid strategy: circle skirt confronts a jaunty fedora
Jaunty 颯爽とした
dʒˈɔːnṭi / (米国英語)/ ˈdʒɔ:nti: / (英国英語
Still, fashion and chess never really gelled
gel 計画固まる
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Google suffers global outage with Gmail, YouTube and majority of services affected
Outage 停電
