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(When) in the chronicle of wasted time
曾翻閱過遠古史冊的零篇殘簡，
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
見往昔的美人留蹤于字里行間，
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
古謠之美在于它謳歌的便是美，
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
絕色多情的佳人騎士都曾筆底生輝。
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
鏤句雕章，早寫盡天姿國色，
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
毫端翰墨臨摹盡手足眼唇及雙眉，
I see their antique pen would have express'd
如椽的畫筆分明是想畫出美妙之身，
Even such a beauty as you master now.
一如你今日展現的風采傾國傾城。
So all their praises are but prophecies
所以往古的一切贊詞都無非是預言，
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
預言我們這個時代，預言你的誕生。
And, for they look'd but with divining eyes,
因為古代詩人還只能想象你的風韻，
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
要歌頌你的價值還缺乏足夠的才情。
For we, which now behold these present days,
即便是我們，今日有幸親睹尊顏，
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
也只能望而興嘆，恨無妙語驚人。
