SONNET XVIII
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 dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
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.
SONET 18
Trebam li te ljetnom danu usporediti?
Više ljupkosti i ugode je u tebi;
Grubi vjetri stresu pupe Majske dražesti,
I sve kraće je vrijeme što ga ljeto dobi:
Prevruće zasja oko nebesko ponekad,
I često zlatna mu je boja zatamnjena,
I svaka lijepost od ljepote strada katkad,
Slučajem il' prirodnim slijedom satrvena:
Ali tvoje vječno ljeto već ne blijedi,
Nit gubi svojstva ljepota koju posjeduješ,
Niti Smrt se hvali da sjenom te slijedi,
Dok u stihovima vječnim u vrijeme rasteš:
Sve dok ljudi dišu ili dok oči sjaje,
Dotle živi ovo i tebi život daje.
SONNET XX
A woman's face, with Nature's own hand painted,
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till Nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love's use their treasure.
SONET 20
Žensko lice, rukom Prirode naslikano,
Ti imaš, gospodaru-gospo moje strasti;
Žensko nježno srce, al' kojem nije dano
Znati nestalnosti što u ženskoj su vlasti.
Oko sjajnije od ženskog, al' manje lažno,
Predmet svaki pozlati gdje pogled mu pade;
Tvoja boja što svim bojama vlada snažno,
Muške poglede i ženske uzdahe krade.
Kao žensko ti bio si stvoren najprije,
Ali Priroda sama za tobom poludi,
I dodatkom jednim od tebe me odbije,
Dodatkom koji cilju mom - ništa ne nudi.
Jer stvoren da budeš ženama za užitak,
Meni daj ljubav, njima naslade probitak.
SONNET LXV
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
O, fearful meditation! Where, alack,
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O, none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
SONET 65
Mjed, i kamen, i zemlja, i beskrajno more,
Ali uboga smrtnost moć njihovu nadjača;
Kako bijes taj i ljepota da nagodbu stvore,
Kad djela ljepote od cvijeta nisu jača?
O, kako da izdrži medeni dah ljeta
Tu razornu opsadu nadirućih dana,
Kad i neprobojne stijene laka su meta,
A dveri od čelika, Vremenu su hrana?
O strašne li misli! Gdje da se, brzo, brže,
Najljepši dragulj Vremena pred Vremenom skrije?
Koja mu ruka nogu hitru zadržat može ?
Da plijeni ljepotu, tko mu zabraniti smije?
Ah, nitko! Osim ako čudo tako da,
U crnoj tinti ljubav moja još da sja!
SONNET LXXVI
Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
So far from variation or quick change?
Why with the time do I not glance aside
To new-found methods and to compounds strange?
Why write I still all one, ever the same,
And keep invention in a noted weed,
That every word doth almost tell my name,
Showing their birth and where they did proceed?
O, know, sweet love, I always write of you,
And you and love are still my argument;
So all my best is dressing old words new,
Spending again what is already spent:
For as the sun is daily new and old,
So is my love still telling what is told.
SONET 76
Zašto je moj stih lišen uresa novih?
Dalek od različitosti i brze mijene?
Zašto s vremenom i ja zastranio ne bih,
U nove metode i u tvorbe čudne?
Zašto i dalje pišem jednako, uvijek isto,
Te držim maštu u već zadanom okviru,
Da skoro već svaka riječ moje ime će reć',
Kazujuć' svoje podrijetlo i svoj začetak?
O, slatka ljubavi, ja uvijek pišem o tebi,
I ti i ljubav, još uvijek ste moja tema;
Stare riječi presvlačim novim, najbolje što znam,
Trošeći opet što je već potrošena shema:
Kao što je sunce i staro i novo dnevno,
Tako i moja ljubav kazuje već rečeno.
SONNET CVII
Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage,
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balmy time
My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,
Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme,
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes.
And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
SONET 107
Ni moji vlastiti strahovi nit' proročka duša
Širokog svijeta što o stvarima budućim sniva,
Istinske mi ljubavi trajanje još ne podriva,
Smatrajuć' je zalogom zapečaćenoj sudbi.
Smrtan je mjesec preživio svoju pomračinu,
Tužni vrači izruguju predviđanja vlastita,
Neizvjesnosti sada nose sigurnosti krunu,
Dok mir masline vječnoga vijeka naviješta.
Sada, s kapima ovog premirisnog vremena,
Moja ljubav svježom se čini; i Smrt mi potpisuje,
Da unatoč njoj, ja živjet ću u ovoj ubogoj rimi,
Dok ona harači tupa i nijema plemena.
A ti, u ovom ovdje svoj ćeš naći spomen,
Kad tirana bude grb i mjeden grob potrošen.
SONNET CXVI
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his hight be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
SONET 116
Ne dopustite mi da braku vjernih duša
Zaprjeke priznam; ljubav to sigurno nije
Koja mijenja se kada ju promjena kuša,
Il' s napasnikom se prvim odmah savije.
O, ne! Ljubav je uvijek čvrst i postojan znak
Što oluje motri, ali uzdrman nije;
Ona je zvijezda lađi što luta kroz mrak,
Mjere joj izmjerene, vrijednosti neznane.
Ljubav nije ludost, al' rujne usne slatke
U dohvat će svijenog srpa Vremena pasti:
Ljubav se ne mijenja kroz sate i tjedne kratke,
Već ona izdrži sve do ruba propasti.
Ako griješim, i to dokaže mi netko,
Nit pisah, nit ikad ljubio je itko.
