Sonnet127 by William Shakespeare 莎翁十四行诗 第127篇 | 英语名家诗篇

SONNET 127In the old age black was not counted fair,Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;But now is black beauty's successive heir,And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame:For since each hand hath put on nature's power,Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face,Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,But is profan'd, if not lives in disgrace.Therefore my mistress' brows are raven black,Her eyes so suited; and they mourners seemAt such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,Slandering creation with a false esteem:   Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,   That every tongue says, beauty should look so.