評論
打印
Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
我曾經獨自祈求獲得你的幫助，
My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,
我的詩也就獨自承蒙你高雅的惠顧；
But now my gracious numbers are decay'd
可而今我筆下不再有繡句珍詞，
And my sick Muse doth give another place.
我那病繆斯只好把神龕拱手讓出。
I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument
甜愛啊，我承認你這個可親的題目
Deserves the travail of a worthier pen,
須有高人健筆縱橫、大書特書，
Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent
但描寫你的詩人盡管有筆下驚雷，
He robs thee of and pays it thee again.
他不過是搶你又還你恰似物歸原主。
He lends thee virtue and he stole that word
頌揚你的德，不過偷自你高尚的行為，
From thy behavior; beauty doth he give
謳歌你的美，不過取自你雙頰的凝膚。
And found it in thy cheek; he can afford
他不過把你原有的東西又還你本人，
No praise to thee but what in thee doth live.
離開你他的頌詞必然會語竭詞枯。
Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
既然他付給你的無非是歸還舊賬，
Since what he owes thee thou thyself dost pay.
那么你對他的作為完全不必褒揚。
