Sonnets of William Shakespeare-Sonnet 32

　　When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,

　　And shalt by fortune once more re-survey

　　These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover,

　　Compare them with the bettering of the time,

　　And though they be outstripp'd by every pen,

　　Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,

　　Exceeded by the height of happier men.

　　O, then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:

　　'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age,

　　A dearer birth than this his love had brought,

　　To march in ranks of better equipage:

　　But since he died and poets better prove,

　　Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love.'

　　倘你活過(guò)我躊躇滿志的大限，

　　當(dāng)鄙夫"死神"用黃土把我掩埋，

　　偶然重翻這拙劣可憐的詩(shī)卷，

　　你情人生前寫來(lái)獻(xiàn)給你的愛，

　　把它和當(dāng)代俊逸的新詩(shī)相比，

　　發(fā)覺它的詞筆處處都不如人，

　　請(qǐng)保留它專為我的愛，而不是

　　為那被幸運(yùn)的天才凌駕的韻。

　　哦，那時(shí)候就請(qǐng)賜給我這愛思：

　　"要是我朋友的詩(shī)神與時(shí)同長(zhǎng)，

　　他的愛就會(huì)帶來(lái)更美的產(chǎn)兒，

　　可和這世紀(jì)任何杰作同俯仰：

　　但他既死去，詩(shī)人們又都邁進(jìn)，

　　我讀他們的文采，卻讀他的心。"