評(píng)論
打印
Who will believe my verse in time to come,
未來的時(shí)代誰會(huì)相信我的詩(shī)，
If it were fill'd with your most high deserts?
如果它充滿了你最高的美德？
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb,
雖然，天知道，它只是一座墓地
Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.
埋著你的生命和一半的本色。
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
如果我寫得出你美目的流盼，
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
用清新的韻律細(xì)數(shù)你的秀妍，
The age to come would say: "This poet lies,"
未來的時(shí)代會(huì)說："這詩(shī)人撒謊：”
Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.
這樣的天姿哪里會(huì)落在人間！
So should my papers yellow'd with their age,
于是我的詩(shī)冊(cè)，被歲月所熏黃，
Be scorn'd like old men of less truth than tongue,
就要被人藐視，像饒舌的老頭；
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage,
你的真容被誣作詩(shī)人的瘋狂，
And stretched metre of an antique song:
以及一支古歌的夸張的節(jié)奏：
But were some child of yours alive that time,
但那時(shí)你若有個(gè)兒子在人世，
You should live twice; in it and in my rhyme.
你就活兩次：在他身上，在詩(shī)里。
