Sonnet No. 18
William Shakespeare
How can I compare you to summer?
You are cuter and gentler than it:
The strong wind shakes the May buds,
The footsteps of summer are gone in a hurry:
Sometimes the eyes of heaven shine too brightly,
Its dazzling golden face is often covered up:
Destroyed by chance or the impermanence of heaven,
There is no beauty that will not wither or be destroyed.
But your long summer will never wither,
Your beauty will not be lost,
Death is beyond his power,
When you live with time in immortal poetry.
As long as there are humans for a day,
Or someone has eyes,
This poem will last forever,
and give you life.
Intention: None
