Nous sommes de l’étoffe dont les songes sont faits…

Our Revels Now Are Ended
The Tempest – William Shakespeare

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

Adieu Terminale SIA! Bon Courage!

https://drive.google.com/drive/u/0/folders/1-QZhuSqMtR0FBVw9Cridk-8arKvGyWlM