Shakespeare’sSonnets(莎翁十四行诗集).pdf

THE S by William Shakespeare
THE S
William Shakespeare
1
THE S by William Shakespeare
I
From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty's rose
might never die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir
might bear his memory: But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where
abundance lies, Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel: Thou that art
now the world's fresh ornament, And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content, And tender churl mak'st waste in
niggarding: Pity the world, or else this glutton be, To eat the world's due,
by the grave and thee.
II
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in
thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now, Will be a
tatter'd weed of small worth held: Then being asked, where all thy beauty
lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days; To say, within thine own
deep sunken eyes, Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise. How
much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use, If thou couldst answer 'This
fair child of mine Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,' Proving
his beauty by ession thine! This were to be new made when thou art
old, And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
III
Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest Now is the time that
face should form another; Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. For where is she so
fair whose unear'd womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry? Or who is
he so fond will be the tomb, Of his self-love to stop posterity? Thou art thy
mother's glass and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime; So
thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles this thy
golden time. But if thou live, remember'd not to be, Die single and thine
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THE S by William Shakespeare
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