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Ouça poemas recitados por elenco da franquia Harry Potter

Conforme divulgamos há alguns dias, os atores Daniel Radcliffe (Harry), Alan Rickman (Snape), Kenneth Branagh (Lockhart) e o narrador dos audiobooks britânicos Stephen Fry recitaram alguns poemas para o Valentine’s Day, comemorado em 14 de fevereiro.[meio-2]

Os áudios já foram disponibilizados online pelo Times Online, e vocês podem baixá-los através dos links abaixo e enviá-los por celular.

CONTINUA DEPOIS DA PUBLICIDADE

Daniel Radcliffe: Sonnet 130, de William Shakespeare

Alan Rickman: Upon Julia’s Clothes, de Robert Herrick

Alan Rickman: Delight in disorder, de Robert Herrick

Kenneth Branagh: To a Stranger, de Walt Whitman

Stephen Fry: Now sleeps the crimson petal, de Alfred Lord Tennyson

O Valentine’s Day é o Dia de São Valentim, quando alguns países comemoram o dia dos namorados. Confiram os textos dos sonetos em notícia completa!

SONETOS DO VALENTINE’S DAY
Letras dos sonetos recitados por membros do mundo Potter

11 de fevereiro de 2010

Daniel Radcliffe
Sonnet 130, de William Shakespeare

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,—
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.

Alan Rickman
Upon Julia’s Clothes, de Robert Herrick

Whenas in silks my Julia goes,
Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows
The liquefaction of her clothes!
Next, when I cast mine eyes and see
That brave vibration each way free,
— O how that glittering taketh me!

Alan Rickman
Delight in disorder, de Robert Herrick

A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness.
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fair distraction;
An erring lace which here and there
Enthralls the crimson stomacher;
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbons to flow confusedly;
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat;
A careless shoestring, in whose tie
I see a wild civility;
Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.

Kenneth Branagh
To a Stranger, de Walt Whitman

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Stephen Fry
Now sleeps the crimson petal, de Alfred Lord Tennyson

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me.
Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.