Everything sounds so much more romantic in Italian. I'm sure even asking where the restroom is in Italian would sound like a sonnet to an English speaker. In this case, the Italian truly is a romantic thing, as these musical syllables are wishing my husband a happy eighth anniversary.
As I'm sure all the mushy things I've told and will tell him would make the strongest of you nauseated, I will refrain from sharing. But I will say this, it's nice to get to keep your best friend forever, mine, all mine, ah-ha-ha-ha...(that was an evil laugh, and thanks for keeping me Chris, not that you would even be able to return me as I lost the receipt, sorry :)
Warning: 18th Shakespearean Sonnet follows, mushy.
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.