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本帖最后由 雨荷风 于 2015-10-8 03:11 编辑
SONNET I
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:
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light'st flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
钟灵人间少,丽质愿更多。娇艳貌如花,终古不消磨。
可奈零落甚,端合发悲歌!来朝花色好,任它岁如梭!
双眸明桀桀,焚身不自呵。桑田变沧海,底事待己苛?
风华倾一代,清美合微哦。早传春消息,繁花又几何?
剧怜花光艳,讵忍付逝波?堪叹谁家子,坟前痴入魔?
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