My own dear love, he is strong and bold
And he cares not what comes after.
His words ring sweet as a chime of gold,
And his eyes are lit with laughter.
He is jubilant as a flag unfurled —
Oh, a girl, she’d not forget him.
My own dear love, he is all my world, —
And I wish I’d never met him.
(el dibujo es de Mindy Lee, el poema de Dorothy Parker)
Miércoles naciente. Nuestro héroe inicia la jornada con su característico y probado dinamismo.
(lo pinta Lee Bermejo)
Tengo un ciento de cosas que hacer, ciudadanos. Pero sólo me apetece dibujar.
(los pinta Berk Öztürk)
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let her paint at inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that.
(lo pinta Simone Bianchi)
La verdad es que me he levantado con el superheroísmo bastante perjudicado. Aing.
(los pinta Lorenzo Nuti)
