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当四十严冬包围你额眉，在美的田野里掘壕开墒。
你万人瞩目的青春华服，将会化着败絮漫天飞扬。
那时若动问你美貌何处，丽日华年瑰宝又在何方。
若你说在你凹陷的眼眶，就是恬不知耻无用揄扬。
倘若你能这样回答的话，善用美貌将值更多赞赏。
“我这美丽孩子为我作证，我的丽质在他身上闪光！”
这如同你垂暮又获新生，看到冷血变暖汩汩流淌。
ii
when forty winters shall beseige thy brow，
and dig deep trenches in thy beauty‘s field，
thy youth‘s p肉d livery， so gazed on now，
will be a tatter‘d weed， of small worth held：
then being ask‘d where all thy beauty lies，
where all the treasure of thy lusty days，
to say， within thine own deep－sun eyes，
were an all－eating shame and thriftless praise。
how much more praise deserved thy beauty‘s use，
if thou couldst answer ‘this fair child of mine
shall sum my count and make my old excuse，‘
proving his beauty by succession thine！
this were to be new made when thou art old，
and see thy blood warm when thou feel‘st it cold。