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。
二九
WHEN, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friend's possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love rememb'red such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
当我受尽命运和人们的白眼，
暗暗地哀悼自己的身世飘零，
徒用呼吁去干扰聋瞆的昊天，
顾盼着身影，诅咒自己的生辰，
愿我和另一个一样富于希望，
面貌相似，又和他一样广交游，
希求这人的渊博，那人的内行，
最赏心的乐事觉得最不对头；
可是，当我正要这样看轻自己，
忽然想起了你，于是我的精神，
便像云雀破晓从阴霾的大地
振翮上升，高唱着圣歌在天门：
一想起你的爱使我那么富有，
和帝王换位我也不屑于屈就。
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二八
HOW can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the benefit of rest,
When day's oppression is not eased by night,
And each, though enemies to either's reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee?
I tell the day, to please him, thou art bright
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;
So flatter I the swart-complexioned night,
When sparkling stars twire not, thou gild'st the even.
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make grief's strength seem stronger.
那么，我怎么能够喜洋洋归来，
既然得不着片刻身心的安息？
当白天的压逼入夜并不稍衰，
只是夜继日、日又继夜地压逼？
日和夜平时虽事事各不相下，
却互相携手来把我轮流挫折，
一个用跋涉，一个却呶呶怒骂，
说我离开你更远，虽整天跋涉。
为讨好白天，我告它你是光明，
在阴云密布时你将把它映照。
我又这样说去讨黑夜的欢心：
当星星不眨眼，你将为它闪耀。
但天天白天尽拖长我的苦痛，
夜夜黑夜又使我的忧思转凶。
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二七
WEARY with toil, I haste to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired,
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind when body's work's expired;
For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see;
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Lo, thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee and for myself no quiet find.
精疲力竭，我赶快到床上躺下，
去歇息我那整天劳顿的四肢；
但马上我的头脑又整装出发，
以劳我的心，当我身已得休息。
因为我的思想，不辞离乡背井，
虔诚地趱程要到你那里进香，
睁大我这双沉沉欲睡的眼睛，
向着瞎子看得见的黑暗凝望；
不过我的灵魂，凭着它的幻眼，
把你的倩影献给我失明的双眸，
像颗明珠在阴森的夜里高悬，
变老丑的黑夜为明丽的白昼。
这样，日里我的腿，夜里我的心，
为你、为我自己，都得不着安宁。
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二六
LORD of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
To thee I send this written ambassage
To witness duty, not to show my wit;
Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,
But that I hope some good coneit of thine
In thy soul's thought, all naked, will bestow it;
Till whatsoever star that guides my moving
Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
And puts apparel on my tottered loving
To show me worthy of thy sweet respect:
Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee;
Till then not show my head where thou mayest prove me.
我爱情的至尊，你的美德已经
使我这藩属加强对你的拥戴，
我现在寄给你这诗当作使臣，
去向你述职，并非要向你炫才。
职责那么重，我又才拙少俊语，
难免要显得赤裸裸和她相见，
但望你的妙思，不嫌它太粗鄙，
在你灵魂里把它的赤裸裸遮掩；
因而不管什么星照引我前程，
都对我露出一副和悦的笑容，
把华服加给我这寒伧的爱情，
使我配得上你那缱绻的恩宠。
那时我才敢对你夸耀我的爱，
否则怕你考验我，总要躲起来。
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二五
LET those who are in favor with their stars
Of public honor and proud titles boast,
Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
Unlooked for joy in that I honor most.
Great princes' favorites their fair leaves spread
But as the marigold at the sun's eye;
And in themselves their pride lies burièd,
For at a frown they in their glory die.
The painful warrior famousèd for fight,
After a thousand victories once foiled,
Is from the book of honor rasèd quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toiled.
Then happy I, that love and am beloved
Where I may not remove nor be removed.
让那些人（他们既有吉星高照）
到处夸说他们的显位和高官，
至于我，命运拒绝我这种荣耀，
只暗中独自赏玩我心里所欢。
王公的宠臣舒展他们的金叶
不过像太阳眷顾下的金盏花，
他们的骄傲在自己身上消灭，
一蹙额便足雕谢他们的荣华。
转战沙场的名将不管多功高，
百战百胜后只要有一次失手，
便从功名册上被人一笔勾消，
毕生的勋劳只落得无声无臭：
那么，爱人又被爱，我多么幸福！
我既不会迁徙，又不怕被驱逐。
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二四
MINE eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill
To fine where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazèd with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, wherethrough the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee.
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art;
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
我眼睛扮作画家，把你的肖像
描画在我的心版上，我的肉体
就是那嵌着你的姣颜的镜框，
而画家的无上的法宝是透视。
你要透过画家的巧妙去发见
那珍藏你的奕奕真容的地方；
它长挂在我胸内的画室中间，
你的眼睛却是画室的玻璃窗。
试看眼睛多么会帮眼睛的忙：
我的眼睛画你的像，你的却是
开向我胸中的窗，从那里太阳
喜欢去偷看那藏在里面的你。
可是眼睛的艺术终欠这高明：
它只能画外表，却不认识内心。
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二三
AS an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put besides his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might.
O, let my books be then the eloquence
And dump presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
"Sonnet #23" was originally published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted (1609).
仿佛舞台上初次演出的戏子
慌乱中竟忘记了自己的角色，
又像被触犯的野兽满腔怒气，
它那过猛的力量反使它胆怯；
同样，缺乏着冷静，我不觉忘掉
举行爱情的仪节的彬彬盛典，
被我爱情的过度重量所压倒，
在我自己的热爱中一息奄奄。
哦，请让我的诗篇做我的辩士，
替我把缠绵的衷曲默默诉说，
它为爱情申诉，并希求着赏赐，
多于那对你絮絮不休的狡舌：
请学会去读缄默的爱的情书，
用眼睛来听原属于爱的妙术。
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二二
MY glass shall not persuade me I am old
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in they breast doth live, as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will,
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
Thou gav'st me thine not to give back again.
"Sonnet #22" was originally published in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never before Imprinted (1609).
这镜子决不能使我相信我老，
只要大好韶华和你还是同年；
但当你脸上出现时光的深槽，
我就盼死神来了结我的天年。
因为那一切妆点着你的美丽
都不过是我内心的表面光彩；
我的心在你胸中跳动，正如你
在我的：那么，我怎会比你先衰？
哦，我的爱呵，请千万自己珍重，
像我珍重自己，乃为你，非为我。
怀抱着你的心，我将那么郑重，
像慈母防护着婴儿遭受病魔。
别侥幸独存，如果我的心先碎；
你把心交我，并非为把它收回。
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