Shakespeare's classic sonnets

Shakespeare is the most outstanding dramatist in the history of English literature, one of the most outstanding writers in the history of western literature and art, and one of the most outstanding writers in the world. His handed down works include 37 plays, 155 sonnets, two narrative poems and other poems. His plays have been translated into major languages and performed far more times than any other playwright. The following are Shakespeare's classic sonnets. I hope you like it!

Shakespeare's classic sonnets:

In a time-wasting chronicle

I saw the description of the most beautiful person,

Beauty creates a beautiful ancient rhyme.

In honor of the dead lady and the lovely knight,

Then, in sweet passion,

Hands, feet, lips, eyes, forehead,

I saw their antique pens express.

Even a beauty like you now.

So all their praise is just prophecy.

This is our time, all you rehearse;

Because they see with divining eyes,

They don't have enough skills to sing about your value:

Because we, now seeing these days,

Have eyes to marvel, but no tongue to praise.

When I went from the distant ancient calendar

Seeing the portrait of a beautiful romantic figure,

Bright colors make ancient songs fragrant,

Praise passionate knights and broken beauty,

So, from those descriptions of national beauty and fragrance,

Hands and feet, lips, eyes or eyebrows,

I found that those pens of Gu Zhuo expressed.

It's just the beauty you occupy now.

So their praise is nothing more than prophecy.

In our time, everything indicates you;

But they only observe with imaginary eyes,

Not talented enough to praise you;

Fortunately, we have to witness today,

Only the eyes marvel, but there is no tongue to recite.

Shakespeare's classic sonnets:

Not my own fear, nor the soul of the prophet.

Dreaming of the vast world in the future,

Whether my true love can be controlled,

Is considered doomed to failure.

The mortal moon experienced her eclipse.

A sign of sadness laughs at one's predictions;

Uncertainty is now crowned with its own assurance.

Peace proclaims the eternity of olives.

Now, with the passage of the warmest time,

My love looks fresh, and death subscribes to me,

Because, despite him, I will live in this poor rhyme,

And he insulted o'er's dull and speechless tribe:

You will find your monument here,

When the tyrant's crown and brass grave are exhausted.

No matter my own troubles or dreams.

The prophet soul of this vast world in the future,

I can't limit the lease of my true love,

Even if it is destined to be the compensation of fate.

The moon on the earth has passed the disaster of erosion,

The ominous prophecy mocked his prophecy,

Turbulence and doubt have been insured,

Peace is a declaration that the olive branch will flourish forever.

So in this era when dew is everywhere,

My love has a new look, and death has surrendered.

Since I will live in this poor book, let it be.

Abuse those stupid and speechless races.

You will find your monument here,

The devil's golden helmet and bronze tomb were destroyed.

Shakespeare's classic sonnets:

What's in the brain? Ink can shape character.

Who hasn't told you my true soul?

New content to talk about, new content to register,

Can you express my love or your dear merits?

Nothing, lovely child; But, like a sacred prayer,

I have to say the same thing every day,

Countless old things, you are mine, I am yours,

Just like the first time I respected your good name.

So eternal love in the case of fresh love.

Weight is not the harm of dust and age,

And don't give necessary wrinkles,

But making ancient times his page,

Found that the conceit of love for the first time grew there.

Where time and external forms will show its death.

What's in your head, pen and ink can describe,

Didn't my heart draw for you?

Is there anything new to say or record,

To show my love or your real price?

No, dear; However, pious prayer

Not a day goes by without me repeating it;

The old saying is not old; You belong to me, and I belong to you,

Just like the first day I blessed your name.

So eternal love is in the evergreen love box.

Will not be damaged by years and dust,

Will not let wrinkles occupy their proper position,

Instead, they regard the old times as permanent domestic slaves;

I found that the original love seedlings still need to be maintained.

Although time and appearance expect it to be yellow.