Can I compare Shakespeare's English love poems to summer days?
Although cuter and gentler:
The wind shook the lovely buds of May,
The lease in summer is too short,
Sometimes the eye of heaven shines too hot,
His golden face often darkens;
Every market sometimes declines,
Accidental or natural process of change, untrimm
But your eternal summer will not die,
Nor will you lose the beauty you know:
Death will not boast that you want to rest in his shade,
When you grow up in eternal poetry.
As long as human beings can breathe and see,
This is eternal, which gives you life.
Do you compare with the beauty in summer?
But you are gentler and cuter than summer:
The wind in May will blow off the buds,
The summer lease is too short and ends too quickly.
The flame in the eye of heaven can be too strong sometimes.
There are often clouds on Kim's face:
All good things will inevitably die,
Either by accident or natural change;
But your long summer will never disappear,
Your beauty will last forever:
When you enter the "poem" that coexists with time,
The dead blow themselves up, and the shadow is hard to hide;
As long as people can breathe and see,
This line will bring you back to life.
Shakespeare's English love poems stop sighing, ladies, stop sighing,
Men are always liars,
One foot in the sea, one foot on the shore,
One thing will never change.
Do not sigh, girl, do not sigh,
Men are liars,
One foot on the shore, one foot in the sea,
He is fickle by nature.
Then don't sigh and let them go.
May you be happy and beautiful,
Convert all your sad voices
Become hey, grandma, grandma, grandma.
Don't sigh, let them go,
Why are you frowning?
Put away your sadness and resentment,
Sing a clear song gently.
No more ditty, no more singing
A dreary and heavy dump,
Men's fraud is so,
Because summer is leafy for the first time.
No more sad songs, girl, no more sad songs,
Stop your heavy mourning;
Which summer is not shady?
Which man is irresponsible?
Then don't sigh and let them go.
May you be happy and beautiful,
Convert all your sad voices
Become hey, noni, noni, noni.
Don't sigh, let them go,
Why are you frowning?
Put away your sadness and resentment,
Sing a clear song gently.
Shakespeare's world of English love poems is a stage,
The whole world is a stage,
All men and women are just players;
Men and women are just actors;
They have their exits and entrances,
They all have their exits and appearances;
A person plays many roles in his life,
Life plays many roles in the world,
His behavior is seven ages. At first it was a baby,
His performance has seven stages. As a baby at first,
Crying and vomiting in the nurse's arms.
Crying and vomiting in my mother's arms;
Then the crying pupil, carrying his schoolbag,
Then there are crying schoolchildren, carrying schoolbags,
Shiny morning light, crawling like a snail
Face is like the morning sun, moving slowly like a snail,
Unwilling to go to school. Then, lover;
I hardly go to school. Then lovers;
Sighing like a stove, singing sad songs
Sighing is like smoking in the stove. I made up a sad song.
On his mistress's eyebrows. Then the soldiers;
Describe your lover's eyebrows. Then, when the soldiers;
Full of strange vows, bearded like a leopard,
Strange vows emerge one after another, beards like leopard tentacles,
Jealous of honor, sudden, quick arguments,
Cherish honor, often quarrel,
Seeking bubble reputation
Pursue fame
Even in the mouth of a cannon. Then justice,
Even at gunpoint. Then he became a judge;
In a fair round belly, a good capon lining,
A potbellied capon,
His eyes were stern, his beard was neatly cut,
Harsh eyes, neatly trimmed beard,
Wise saws and modern examples;
Wise aphorisms and platitudes;
So he played his part. The sixth era has changed.
That's how he plays his role. The sixth issue
Become skinny pants in slippers!
Become a stupid old man in slippers!
Wearing glasses on the nose and a pocket on the side;
Glasses on the bridge of the nose, wallet hanging around the waist;
His socks were well preserved when he was young, and the world was too wide.
The socks I saved when I was young were worn on my shriveled calf.
His shrinking calves, and his macho voice,
Wide and swaying; A man's loud voice
Turn again to childish high notes, pipes
Turned into a shrill children's voice,
There is a whistle in his voice. The last scene,
Tones like bagpipes and whistles. The last scene,
Ending this strange and eventful history,
End this strange and eventful historical drama,
Is the second childish and forgotten,
It was my second childhood, and I was forgotten;
No teeth, no eyes, no taste, everything is normal.
No teeth, no sight, no taste, nothing.