SONNET #1
by: William Shakespeare
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,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thout that are 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.
对天生的尤物我们要求蕃盛，
以便美的玫瑰永远不会枯死，
但开透的花朵既要及时雕零，
就应把记忆交给娇嫩的后嗣；
但你，只和你自己的明眸定情，
把自己当燃料喂养眼中的火焰，
和自己作对，待自己未免太狠，
把一片丰沃的土地变成荒田。
你现在是大地的清新的点缀，
又是锦绣阳春的唯一的前锋，
为什么把富源葬送在嫩蕊里，
温柔的鄙夫，要吝啬，反而浪用？
可怜这个世界吧，要不然，贪夫，
就吞噬世界的份，由你和坟墓。
二
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 tottered 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 prasie deserved 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 succession thine.
This were to be new made when thou art old
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st cold.
当四十个冬天围攻你的朱颜，
在你美的园地挖下深的战壕，
你青春的华服，那么被人艳羡，
将成褴褛的败絮，谁也不要瞧：
那时人若问起你的美在何处，
哪里是你那少壮年华的宝藏，
你说，“在我这双深陷的眼眶里，
是贪婪的羞耻，和无益的颂扬。”
你的美的用途会更值得赞美，
如果你能够说，“我这宁馨小童
将总结我的账，宽恕我的老迈，”
证实他的美在继承你的血统！
这将使你在衰老的暮年更生，
并使你垂冷的血液感到重温。
三
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 renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose uneared 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 rememb'red not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.
照照镜子，告诉你那镜中的脸庞，
说现在这庞儿应该另造一副；
如果你不赶快为它重修殿堂，
就欺骗世界，剥掉母亲的幸福。
因为哪里会有女人那么淑贞
她那处女的胎不愿被你耕种？
哪里有男人那么蠢，他竟甘心
做自己的坟墓，绝自己的血统？
你是你母亲的镜子，在你里面
她唤回她的盛年的芳菲四月：
同样，从你暮年的窗你将眺见——
纵皱纹满脸——你这黄金的岁月。
但是你活着若不愿被人惦记，
就独自死去，你的肖像和你一起。
四
UNTHRIFTY loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thyself they beauty's legacy?
Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend,
And, being frank, she lends to those are free.
Then, beateous niggard, why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Profitless userer, why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
For, having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive:
Then how, when Nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
Which, usèd, lives th' executor to be.
俊俏的浪子，为什么把你那份
美的遗产在你自己身上耗尽？
造化的馈赠非赐予，她只出赁；
她慷慨，只赁给宽宏大量的人。
那么，美丽的鄙夫，为什么滥用
那交给你转交给别人的厚礼？
赔本的高利贷者，为什么浪用
那么一笔大款，还不能过日子？
因为你既然只和自己做买卖，
就等于欺骗你那妩媚的自我。
这样，你将拿什么账目去交代，
当造化唤你回到她怀里长卧？
你未用过的美将同你进坟墓；
用呢，就活着去执行你的遗嘱。
五
THOSE hours that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter and confounds him there,
Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'ersnowed and bareness everywhere.
Then, were not summer's distillation left
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,
Leese but there snow; their substance still lives sweet.
那些时辰曾经用轻盈的细工
织就这众目共注的可爱明眸，
终有天对它摆出魔王的面孔，
把绝代佳丽剁成龙锺的老丑：
因为不舍昼夜的时光把盛夏
带到狰狞的冬天去把它结果；
生机被严霜窒息，绿叶又全下，
白雪掩埋了美，满目是赤裸裸：
那时候如果夏天尚未经提炼，
让它凝成香露锁在玻璃瓶里，
美和美的流泽将一起被截断，
美，和美的记忆都无人再提起：
但提炼过的花，纵和冬天抗衡，
只失掉颜色，却永远吐着清芬。
二一
O is it not with me as with that Muse
Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse;
Making a couplement of proud compare
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's airs in this huge rondure hems.
O let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air:
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
"Sonnet #21" was originally published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted (1609).
我的诗神①并不像那一位诗神
只知运用脂粉涂抹他的诗句，
连苍穹也要搬下来作妆饰品，
罗列每个佳丽去赞他的佳丽，
用种种浮夸的比喻作成对偶，
把他比太阳、月亮、海陆的瑰宝，
四月的鲜花，和这浩荡的宇宙
蕴藏在它的怀里的一切奇妙。
哦，让我既真心爱，就真心歌唱，
而且，相信我，我的爱可以媲美
任何母亲的儿子，虽然论明亮
比不上挂在天空的金色烛台。
谁喜欢空话，让他尽说个不穷；
我志不在出售，自用不着祷颂。
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二十
WOMAN'S face, with Nature's own hand painted,
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till Nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love's use their treasure.
"Sonnet #20" was originally published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted (1609).
你有副女人的脸，由造化亲手
塑就，你，我热爱的情妇兼情郎；
有颗女人的温婉的心，但没有
反复和变幻，像女人的假心肠；
眼睛比她明媚，又不那么造作，
流盼把一切事物都镀上黄金；
绝世的美色，驾御着一切美色，
既使男人晕眩，又使女人震惊。
开头原是把你当女人来创造：
但造化塑造你时，不觉着了迷，
误加给你一件东西，这就剥掉
我的权利——这东西对我毫无意义。
但造化造你既专为女人愉快，
让我占有，而她们享受，你的爱。
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一九
EVOURING time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as they fleet'st,
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets,
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
Yet do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
"Sonnet #19" was originally published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted (1609).
饕餮的时光，去磨钝雄狮的爪，
命大地吞噬自己宠爱的幼婴，
去猛虎的颚下把它利牙拔掉，
焚毁长寿的凤凰，灭绝它的种，
使季节在你飞逝时或悲或喜；
而且，捷足的时光，尽肆意地摧残
这大千世界和它易谢的芳菲；
只有这极恶大罪我禁止你犯：
哦，别把岁月刻在我爱的额上，
或用古老的铁笔乱画下皱纹：
在你的飞逝里不要把它弄脏，
好留给后世永作美丽的典型。
但，尽管猖狂，老时光，凭你多狠，
我的爱在我诗里将万古长青。
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一八
HALL I compare thee to a summer's day?
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 dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
"Sonnet #18" was originally published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted (1609).
我怎么能够把你来比作夏天？
你不独比它可爱也比它温婉：
狂风把五月宠爱的嫩蕊作践，
夏天出赁的期限又未免太短：
天上的眼睛有时照得太酷烈，
它那炳耀的金颜又常遭掩蔽：
被机缘或无常的天道所摧折，
没有芳艳不终于雕残或销毁。
但是你的长夏永远不会雕落，
也不会损失你这皎洁的红芳，
或死神夸口你在他影里漂泊，
当你在不朽的诗里与时同长。
只要一天有人类，或人有眼睛，
这诗将长存，并且赐给你生命。
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一七
HO will believe my verse in time to come
If it were filled with your most high deserts?
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say, 'This poet lies--
Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces.'
So should my papers, yellowed with their age,
Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be termed a poet's rage
And stretchèd metre of an antique song.
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice--in it and in my rime.
"Sonnet #17" was originally published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted (1609).
未来的时代谁会相信我的诗，
如果它充满了你最高的美德？
虽然，天知道，它只是一座墓地
埋着你的生命和一半的本色。
如果我写得出你美目的流盼，
用清新的韵律细数你的秀妍，
未来的时代会说：“这诗人撒谎：
这样的天姿哪里会落在人间！”
于是我的诗册，被岁月所熏黄，
就要被人藐视，像饶舌的老头；
你的真容被诬作诗人的疯狂，
以及一支古歌的夸张的节奏：
但那时你若有个儿子在人世，
你就活两次：在他身上，在诗里。
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一六
BUT wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
And fortify yourself in your decay
With means more blessèd than my barren rime?
Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
And many maiden gardens, yet unset,
With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,
Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
So should the lines of life that life repair
Which this time's pencil or my pupil pen,
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.
To give away yourself keeps yourself still,
And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.
"Sonnet #16" was originally published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted (1609).
但是为什么不用更凶的法子
去抵抗这血淋淋的魔王——时光？
不用比我的枯笔吉利的武器，
去防御你的衰朽，把自己加强？
你现在站在黄金时辰的绝顶，
许多少女的花园，还未经播种，
贞洁地切盼你那绚烂的群英，
比你的画像更酷肖你的真容：
只有生命的线能把生命重描；
时光的画笔，或者我这枝弱管，
无论内心的美或外貌的姣好，
都不能使你在人们眼前活现。
献出你自己依然保有你自己，
而你得活着，靠你自己的妙笔。
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一五
WHEN I consider everything that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheerèd and checked even by the selfsame sky,
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory:
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night;
And, all in war with Time for love of you,
As he takes from you, I ingraft you new.
当我默察一切活泼泼的生机
保持它们的芳菲都不过一瞬，
宇宙的舞台只搬弄一些把戏
被上苍的星宿在冥冥中牵引；
当我发觉人和草木一样蕃衍，
任同一的天把他鼓励和阻挠，
少壮时欣欣向荣，盛极又必反，
繁华和璀璨都被从记忆抹掉；
于是这一切奄忽浮生的征候
便把妙龄的你在我眼前呈列，
眼见残暴的时光与腐朽同谋，
要把你青春的白昼化作黑夜；
为了你的爱我将和时光争持：
他摧折你，我要把你重新接枝。
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一四
NOT from the stars do I my judgment pluck,
And yet methinks I have astronomy;
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or season's quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well
By oft predict that I in heaven find;
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive
If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert:
Or else of thee this I prognosticate,
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.
并非从星辰我采集我的推断；
可是我以为我也精通占星学，
但并非为了推算气运的通蹇，
以及饥荒、瘟疫或四时的风色；
我也不能为短促的时辰算命，
指出每个时辰的雷电和风雨，
或为国王占卜流年是否亨顺，
依据我常从上苍探得的天机。
我的术数只得自你那双明眸，
恒定的双星，它们预兆这吉祥：
只要你回心转意肯储蓄传后，
真和美将双双偕你永世其昌。
要不然关于你我将这样昭示：
你的末日也就是真和美的死。
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