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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=571747" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day?</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=571747" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? <br>No. Summers in Africa are hot as hell: <br>Rough dusty winds our thatched huts shake<br>While heaven's bloodshot eye on boiling our brains concentrates; <br>That's the reason we are technologically Third rate.<br>Shall I then compare thee to a winter's day? <br>What is winter? Not in Africa have I heard of that; <br>Two ironic seasons do we have: <br>One hot as hell, the other<br>Wet as hell (like Noah's day) .<br>I shall thence leave the weather to the gods, <br>I shan't deal with the African weather, my love.<br>Thou art to me most precious<br>Than the rarest of precious metals.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Kimani+wa+Mumbi">Kimani wa Mumbi</a></strong></div>

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