莎士比亚十四行诗朗诵 (6)Sonnet XVII 第17首

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Who will believe my verse in time to come,

未来的时代谁会相信我的诗,

If it were fill’d with your most high deserts?

如果它充满了你最高的美德?

Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb,

虽然,天知道,它只是一座墓地

Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.

埋着你的生命和一半的本色。

If I could write the beauty of your eyes,

如果我写得出你美目的流盼,

And in fresh numbers number all your graces,

用清新的韵律细数你的秀妍,

The age to come would say: “This poet lies,”

未来的时代会说:”这诗人撒谎:”

Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.

这样的天姿哪里会落在人间!

So should my papers yellow’d with their age,

于是我的诗册,被岁月所熏黄,

Be scorn’d like old men of less truth than tongue,

就要被人藐视,像饶舌的老头;

And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage,

你的真容被诬作诗人的疯狂,

And stretched metre of an antique song:

以及一支古歌的夸张的节奏:

But were some child of yours alive that time,

但那时你若有个儿子在人世,

You should live twice; in it and in my rhyme.

你就活两次:在他身上,在诗里。

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