CVII

Not mine own fears nor the prophetic soul

Of the wide world dreaming on things to come

Can yet the lease of my true love control,

Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.

The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,

And the sad augurs mock their own presage;

Incertainties now crown themselves assured,

And peace proclaims olives of endless age.

Now with the drops of this most balmy time

My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,

Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme,

While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes;

And thou in this shalt find thy monument

When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.

107

无论我自身对未来的忧惧，

还是预言家对世界的预想，

都不能为我的爱规定限期，

并让它在宿命中走向死亡。

人间之月[1]已安度月蚀之难，

星象家的预言都成了笑柄，

不安的一切都转化为安然，

橄榄枝宣告了永久的和平。

有这芬芳时代的甘露滋润，

我鲜活的爱，连死神也退避：

尽管她常侮辱下贱的愚民，

我不理她，独自活在这诗里。

　　当暴君的饰章、铜墓化成灰，

　　诗篇里仍立着你的纪念碑。

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[1] “人间之月”喻指女王伊丽莎白一世。