Сочинение, Шекспир "Ромео и Джульета"

As daylight breaks our sleepless night,
In fair Verona's ancient streets,
Where sun and moon wage endless plight,
Our tale of love and woe repeats.

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

Yet these delights, if they the fruits of love
Borne from despairing minds do hold upon
A fleeting touch of sweet caress,
Turn bitter in an hour's span;
For what is love, if not the thread
That weaves itself through joy and woe?

Thus with a kiss, love's final breath,
The words our scorching lips did share,
Dreams fade but flame still stays
To light the memory of our deaths.
Now, loving children, let me sage advise,
To heed no feuds, to nurse no hate,
For what is life if lived in guise,
And peace not found 'til much too late?

For in our fate we sow the seeds
That blossom forth in future days,
So in your hearts, let love take lead,
That harmony in Verona stays.