If thou survive my well-contented day,
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 bett'ring of the time,
And though they be outstripped 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.
翻译：
若你能看到，那位吝啬的死神，
正在急欲，掩埋我骨灰的那天；
真希望你能有机会，再次重阅，
逝去友人，这拙劣可怜的诗卷；
把它们和时兴的新诗，相比较，
会发现笔法，落后于岁月变迁；
措辞朴实，且不合时宜的音韵，
已被华丽的辞藻，超过和驱赶；
哦！那就请赐给我鲜活的灵感，
我的诗友，早已写出应时佳篇；
与时俱进文采倍增，成果显着，
堪与这世上的任何杰作，争先；
虽然后代诗人，已是风格各显；
但我读出它们，依旧口味未变。
推荐理由：这首是出自莎士比亚笔下154首十四行情诗其中的Sonnet32《古韵》，如果你是莎士比亚的粉丝怎能错过呢？
