十四行詩 Sonnet 100

Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long

To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?

Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,

Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?

Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem

In gentle numbers time so idly spent;

Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem

And gives thy pen both skill and argument.

Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,

If Time have any wrinkle graven there;

If any, be a satire to decay,

And make Time's spoils despised every where.

Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;

So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.

你在哪裏，詩神，竟長期忘記掉

把你的一切力量的源頭歌唱？

爲什麼浪費狂熱於一些濫調，

消耗你的光去把俗物照亮？

回來吧，健忘的詩神，立刻輕彈

宛轉的旋律，贖回虛度的光陰；

唱給那衷心愛慕你並把靈感

和技巧賜給你的筆的耳朵聽。

起來，懶詩神，檢查我愛的秀容，

看時光可曾在那裏刻下皺紋；

假如有，就要儘量把衰老嘲諷，

使時光的剽竊到處遭人齒冷。

　　快使愛成名，趁時光未下手前，

　　你就擋得住它的風刀和霜劍。