As a warm activity we had a quiz on Shakespeare's life and works and we displayed the answers on the board.
Then they showed us some posters with his life and works, read some sonnets and answered to some questions about him.
We also organized a small exhibition at school with books
and drawings realized by students of classees II As and II Bs
inspired by Shakespeare sonnets n. 116, 18 ,73
Sonnet 116
Let
me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit
impediments. Love is not love
Which
alters when it alteration finds,
Or
bends with the remover to remove.
O
no, it is an ever-fixèd mark
That
looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It
is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose
worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s
not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within
his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love
alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But
bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If
this be error and upon me proved,
I
never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Sonnet 18
Shall
I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou
art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough
winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And
summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime
too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And
often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And
every fair from fair sometime declines,
By
chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed.
But
thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor
lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor
shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When
in eternal lines to time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe or eyes
can see,
So long lives this, and this gives
life to thee.
Sonnet 73
That time of year thou may'st in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day,
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by-and-by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day,
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by-and-by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
