Shakespeare's sonnets:
Assuming you are real, I will live like this,
Like a cheated husband; So the face of love
It may still be love for me, although it has changed;
You look at me, your heart is somewhere else:
Because there is no hatred in your eyes,
Therefore, I can't know your change.
In the eyes of many people, the history of false hearts
Is written in the mood and frown and wrinkles strange,
But heaven has been decided in your creation.
Sweet love stays on your face forever;
No matter what you think or what your heart is doing,
Your eyes are nothing but sweet.
How beautiful you look like Eve's apple,
If your sweet virtue doesn't respond to your performance!
So I will live and believe that you are loyal,
Like a cheated husband, so face love.
For me, it is still love, although it has been turned over;
Look at me, but my heart is elsewhere:
Hatred cannot exist in your eyes,
I can't see the change in your heart.
The hypocrisy and hypocritical history of many people.
All of them are frowning, frowning or looking;
But when God created you, it was already doomed.
Tenderness should stay on your face forever;
No matter how your heart changes,
Your eyes can only tell beauty and gentleness.
Your charm will be Eve's apple,
If your virtue doesn't match your appearance.
Shakespeare's sonnets:
Those who have the ability to hurt but do nothing,
Instead of doing what they usually do,
Who, touching others, is a stone,
Unmoved, indifferent, and insensitive to temptation,
They did inherit the grace of heaven.
And her husband's natural wealth from expenses;
They are the masters of their own faces,
Others, but their excellent housekeepers.
Summer flowers are sweet to summer,
Although it is only life and death for itself,
But if flower with infected base meet,
The meanest weed is nobler than he is;
Because the sweetest things become the sourest because of their actions;
The rotten lilies smell worse than weeds.
Who has the right to hurt others without doing so,
Instead of doing what people think they like to do,
He is emotional, but he is like a stone.
Cold, cold, resisting temptation-
No matter who is blessed by heaven,
Good at storing and preserving the wealth of nature;
They are their own beautiful masters,
Others are just their beautiful slaves.
How fragrant the summer flowers are,
Although it only opens and falls by itself,
But if that flower is infected with a despicable virus,
The meanest weed is much nobler than it;
Very fragrant things stink when they are rotten,
Rotten lilies smell worse than weeds.