As often-times the too resplendent sun

恰似常见的情景，灿烂的太阳

   Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon

把苍白而不情愿的月亮

Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won

赶回她幽暗的洞穴，她还不曾

   A single ballad from the nightingale,

从夜莺那儿赢得一首歌谣，

   So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,

美也同样让我的双唇失效，

And all my sweetest singing out of tune.

我所有甜美的歌唱尽数跑调。

And as at dawn across the level mead

恰似黎明有风疾驰，举着翅膀，

   On wings impetuous some wind will come,

鲁莽地越过平坦的草地，

And with its too harsh kisses break the reed

以它粗鲁的亲吻击碎了芦笛，

   Which was its only instrument of song,

这歌唱时唯一的乐器，

   So my too stormy passions work me wrong,

我过于狂暴的激情令我反常，

And for excess of Love my Love is dumb.

爱的过多让我的爱变成哑巴。

But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show

但我的眼睛必定已向你表明，

   Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;

我为何沉默，琴弦为何松弛；

Else it were better we should part, and go,

否则我们宁可就分手，作别，

   Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,

你另找嘴唇吟唱甜美的旋律，

   And I to nurse the barren memory

我就去照看荒芜的记忆，

Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.

那未吻之吻、无歌之歌的记忆。