Unveiling Shakespeare's Sonnets: A Journey Through Timeless Verses with Side-by-Side Modern English Translation

Original

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory.

Shakespeare’s Sonnets With Side-By-Side Modern English Translation (Shakespeare Side-By-Side Translation Book 12)

by David L. Kirp

4.7 out of 5

Language	:	English
File size	:	1944 KB
Screen Reader	:	Supported
Print length	:	352 pages
Lending	:	Enabled

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But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And yet the world's best habit mak'st it worst,
Now living dost thy love and life bemoan.
Prized above price or wealth which nature bought,

Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And yet the world's best habit mak'st it worst,
Now living dost thy love and life bemoan.
Prized above price or wealth which nature bought,

Modern English Translation

From the most beautiful creatures, we seek offspring,
That beauty's rose may not perish with time,
But as the older generation passes away,
Their children may preserve their legacy.

However, you, consumed by love for yourself,
Extinguish your own flame with inward consumption,
Creating scarcity where there is abundance,
Your selfishness harms both your present and future self.

You, who are now the world's most radiant ornament,
Yet make the world's finest attribute its worst,
Now, in your prime, you lament your love and existence.
Prized above all that nature has bestowed,

You are your own enemy, too cruel to your sweet self.
You, who are now the world's most radiant ornament,
Yet make the world's finest attribute its worst,
Now, in your prime, you lament your love and existence.
Prized above all that nature has bestowed,

Original

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Modern English Translation

Shall I compare you to a summer's day?
You are more beautiful and more gentle.
Harsh winds may damage May's delicate buds,
And summer's season is too brief.

Sometimes the sun's rays are too intense,
And often its golden glow is obscured;
And everything beautiful eventually fades,
Whether by chance or the cycle of nature.

But your eternal beauty will not wither,
Nor will you lose the loveliness you possess;
Death cannot claim you, for you live forever,
As long as my verses endure through time.

As long as people can read or see,
This poem will live on, giving you eternal life.

Original

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:

Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night.
And weep afresh love's long-since cancell'd woe,
And moan th' expense of many a vanish'd sight:

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end.

Modern English Translation

When I quietly reflect on the past,
I mourn the loss of many things I once desired,
And lament the waste of my precious time.

I weep for dear friends lost to death's eternal night,
And relive the pain of love's betrayal.
I grieve over forgotten joys,
And recount my sorrows one by one.

But when I think of you, my beloved friend,
All my losses are restored, and my sorrows cease.

Original

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun:
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any petrarch's mistress e'er could have,
Though mine be not so rich, or be so fair,

Modern English Translation

My mistress' eyes are not like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips:
If snow is white, then her breasts are brown:
If hairs are wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses, both red and white,
But no such roses do I see in her cheeks;
And some perfumes are more delightful
Than the breath that