Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
But if thou live rememb'red not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.
照照镜子,告诉你看到的那张脸
现在时间已到,该把那脸另换一张;
如果现在你不重整你的焕发的容颜,
你辜负世人,使一个做母亲的失望。
哪个女人那样美,她那未开垦的子宫
会拒绝你去地耕耘?
哪个男人那样蠢,顾影自怜的把命断送,
而心甘情愿的断子绝孙?
你是母亲的镜子,她看到你
便忆起她的青春愉快的时光;
你将来皱纹满面,从你老年窗扉望出去,
同样也可罕见你黄金时代的景象。
但是你若虚度一生,只愿死后被人忘记,
那么就独身一世,你和你的踪影一同死去。
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