Sauce

There is a willow grows aslant the

brook

That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy

stream;

There with fantastic garlands did she

come

Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies and

long purples

That liberal shepherds give a grosser

name,

But our cold maids do dead men´s

fingers call them.

(Hamlet)

Sauce lloron, Pringles y Lezica, foto mia