If I could write the beauty of your eyes...

Who will believe my verse in time to come, If it were filled with your most high deserts. Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts. If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say: This poet lies... Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces. So should my papers,yellowed with their age, Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue, And stretched metre of an antique song. But were some child of yours alive that time, You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme. ————Shakespeare 后人谁会相信我的诗 假如载着对你美德的颂扬 毕竟，天知道， 它只会像坟墓一样将你生命的本色掩埋 如果我写得出你美目的流盼 用清新的韵律细数你的秀妍 将来的人们会说：这个诗人简直谎话连篇， 如此的天姿怎会流落人间！ 于是我的诗稿，被岁月所熏黄， 被讥讽为饶舌老人的信口雌黄 你真容将被诬作诗人的狂想 或是一首古老歌曲夸张的翻板。 但你如果有孩子活在那时 你会拥有两次生命，在孩子身上 也在诗里。 ————莎士比亚 Audio by 蜗牛 Sound editor @挺萌的阿米