Shakespeare #23

                           Sonnet #23
As an unperfect actor on the stage,
 Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay, O'ercharged with burthen of mine own love's might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast, Who plead for love, and look for recompense, More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.
 O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
 To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LEgdZykhY0E
 I never understand people who shout out their love, write it everywhere like it is the easiest thing in the World. But isn’t love the thing makes you forget your words, changes your reality, binds your mind to that one person? Not because it is something wrong but rather something that so special, and so unique that words cannot be enough to describe. It can be shown with a little smile or touch, or little sigh. The short movie about this sonnet exactly meet all the things that I mentioned. It was a little smile that shows all her love and her hopeless touch that sting my heart. It is all the things that you could not say and like Shakespeare said; Learn to read what silent love hath writ and maybe, if you are one of the luckiest person alive in this world, that person have the same silent love as you have.