Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
If not from my love's breath? The purple pride
Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells
In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
The lily I condemned for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair:
The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
One blushing shame, another white despair;
A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both
And to his robbery had annex'd thy breath;
But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth
A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
More flowers I noted, yet I none could see
But sweet or colour it had stol'n from thee.
我對孟浪的紫羅蘭這樣譴責(zé):
"溫柔賊,你哪里偷來這縷溫馨,
若不是從我愛的呼息?這紫色
在你的柔頰上抹了一層紅暈,
還不是從我愛的血管里染得?"
我申斥百合花盜用了你的手,
茉沃蘭的蓓蕾偷取你的柔發(fā);
站在刺上的玫瑰花嚇得直抖,
一朵羞得通紅,一朵絕望到發(fā)白,
另一朵,不紅不白,從雙方偷來;
還在贓物上添上了你的呼息,
但既犯了盜竊,當它正昂頭盛開,
一條怒沖沖的毛蟲把它咬死。
我還看見許多花,但沒有一朵
不從你那里偷取芬芳和婀娜。