经典莎士比亚最浪漫的情诗英文五篇

篇一

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest

In one of thine, from that which thou departest;

And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowest

Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest.

Herein lives wisdom, beauty and increase:

Without this, folly, age and cold decay:

If all were minded so, the times should cease

And threescore year would make the world away.

Let those whom Nature hath not made for store,

Harsh featureless and rude, barrenly perish:

Look, whom she best endow'd she gave the more;

Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:

She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby

Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.

和你一样快地消沉，你的儿子，

也将一样快在世界生长起来;

你灌注给青春的这新鲜血液

仍将是你的，当青春把你抛开。

这里面活着智慧、美丽和昌盛;

没有这，便是愚蠢、衰老和腐朽：

人人都这样想，就要钟停漏尽，

六十年便足使世界化为乌有。

让那些人生来不配生育传宗，

粗鲁、丑陋和笨拙，无后地死去;

造化的至宠，她的馈赠也最丰，

该尽量爱惜她这慷慨的赐予：

她把你刻做她的印，意思是要

你多印几份，并非要毁掉原稿。

篇二

When I do count the clock that tells the time,

And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;

When I behold the violet past prime,

And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white;

When lofty trees I see barren of leaves

Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,

And summer's green all girded up in sheaves

Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,

Then of thy beauty do I question make,

That thou among the wastes of time must go,

Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake

And die as fast as they see others grow;

And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence

Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

当我数着壁上报时的自鸣钟，

见明媚的白昼坠入狰狞的夜，

当我凝望着紫罗兰老了春容，

青丝的卷发遍洒着皑皑白雪;

当我看见参天的树枝叶尽脱，

它不久前曾荫蔽喘息的牛羊;

夏天的青翠一束一束地就缚，

带着坚挺的白须被舁上殓床;

于是我不禁为你的朱颜焦虑：

终有天你要加入时光的废堆，

既然美和芳菲都把自己抛弃，

眼看着别人生长自己却枯萎;

没什么抵挡得住时光的毒手，

除了生育，当他来要把你拘走。

篇三

O, that you were yourself! but, love, you are

No longer yours than you yourself here live:

Against this coming end you should Ppare,

And your sweet semblance to some other give.

So should that beauty which you hold in lease

Find no determination: then you were

Yourself again after yourself's decease,

When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.

Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,

Which husbandry in honour might uphold

Against the stormy gusts of winter's day

And barren rage of death's eternal cold?

O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know

You had a father: let your son say so.

哦，但愿你是你自己，但爱呀，你

终非你有，当你不再活在世上：

对这将临的日子你得要准备，

快交给别人你那俊秀的肖像。

这样，你所租赁的朱颜就永远

不会有满期;于是你又将变成

你自己，当你已经离开了人间，

既然你儿子保留着你的倩影。

谁肯让一座这样的华厦倾颓，

如果小心地看守便可以维护

它的光彩，去抵抗隆冬的狂吹

和那冷酷的死神无情的暴怒?

哦，除非是浪子;我爱呀，你知道

你有父亲;让你儿子也可自豪。

篇四

Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;

And yet methinks I have astronomy,

But not to tell of good or evil luck,

Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;

Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,

Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,

Or say with princes if it shall go well,

By oft Pdict that I in heaven find:

But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,

And, constant stars, in them I read such art

As truth and beauty shall together thrive,

If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;

Or else of thee this I prognosticate:

Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.

并非从星辰我采集我的推断;

可是我以为我也精通占星学，

但并非为了推算气运的通蹇，

以及饥荒、瘟疫或四时的风色;

我也不能为短促的时辰算命，

指出每个时辰的雷电和风雨，

或为国王占卜流年是否亨顺，

依据我常从上苍探得的天机。

我的术数只得自你那双明眸，

恒定的双星，它们预兆这吉祥：

只要你回心转意肯储蓄传后，

真和美将双双偕你永世其昌。

要不然关于你我将这样昭示：

你的末日也就是真和美的死。

篇五

Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd

Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;

My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,

And perspective it is the painter's art.

For through the painter must you see his skill,

To find where your true image pictured lies;

Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,

That hath his windows glazed 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, where-through 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，

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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。