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给你个参考,这不比没一点文学细胞的笨蛋写的藏头诗好:莎士比亚-十四行诗(节选) SONNET #1 by: William Shakespeare FROM fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty's rose might never die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory; But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thout that are now the world's fresh ornament And only herald to the gaudy spring, Within thine own bud buriest thy content And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding. Pity the world, or else this glutton be, To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee. 对天生的尤物我们要求蕃盛, 以便美的玫瑰永远不会枯死, 但开透的花朵既要及时雕零, 就应把记忆交给娇嫩的后嗣; 但你,只和你自己的明眸定情, 把自己当燃料喂养眼中的火焰, 和自己作对,待自己未免太狠, 把一片丰沃的土地变成荒田。 你现在是大地的清新的点缀, 又是锦绣阳春的唯一的前锋, 为什么把富源葬送在嫩蕊里, 温柔的鄙夫,要吝啬,反而浪用? 可怜这个世界吧,要不然,贪夫, 就吞噬世界的份,由你和坟墓。 SONNET #2 by: William Shakespeare WHEN forty winters shall besiege thy brow And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tottered weed of small worth held: Then being asked where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise. How much more prasie 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 cold. 二 当四十个冬天围攻你的朱颜, 在你美的园地挖下深的战壕, 你青春的华服,那么被人艳羡, 将成褴褛的败絮,谁也不要瞧: 那时人若问起你的美在何处, 哪里是你那少壮年华的宝藏, 你说,"在我这双深陷的眼眶里, 是贪婪的羞耻,和无益的颂扬。" 你的美的用途会更值得赞美, 如果你能够说,"我这宁馨小童 将总结我的账,宽恕我的老迈," 证实他的美在继承你的血统! 这将使你在衰老的暮年更生, 并使你垂冷的血液感到重温。
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