Peter Schickele - Macbeth's Soliloquy
40
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{Verse 1}
Mañana, mañana, mañana!
Creep on in this petty pace from day to day
Until the last syllable of recorded time
And all our yesteryears have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out! Out! Out! Out! Out, out brief candle!
Life is but a poor player
Who struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: 'Tis tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing
{Verse 1}
Mañana, mañana, mañana!
Creep on in this petty pace from day to day
Until the last syllable of recorded time
And all our yesteryears have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out! Out! Out! Out! Out, out brief candle!
Life is but a poor player
Who struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: 'Tis tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing