I recently read this sonnet by Michelangelo and I think it's beautiful."My lady, how comes it about-what all can see
from long experience-that rough mountain stone
carved to a living form, survives its own
creator, who'll end in ashes in a urn?
Cause lesser than its effect, from which we learn
how nature is less than art, as well I know
whose many a lively statue proves it so,
which time and the tomb exempt grant amnesty.
Mine then, the power to give us, you and me,
a long survival in-choose it-stone or color,
faces just like our own exact and true.
Though we're dead a thousand years, still men can
see how beautiful you were; I, how much duller,
and yet how far from a fool in loving you."
