The Sonnets of william Shakespear'

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet I

,FROM fairest creatures we desire increase
,That thereby beauty's rose might never die
,But as the riper should by time decease
:His tender heir might bear his memory
:But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes
,Feed'st thy light'st flame with self-substantial fuel
,Making a famine where abundance lies
.Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament
,And only herald to the gaudy spring
Within thine own bud buriest thy content
,And, tender churl, makest waste in niggardin
, Pity the world, or else this glutton be
. To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet II
When forty winters shall beseige thy brow
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field
Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now
Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held
Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days
To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes
Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise
How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count and make my old excuse
Proving his beauty by succession thine
This were to be new made when thou art old
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet III


Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewes
Now is the time that face should form another
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother
For where is she so fair whose unear'd wom
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry
Or who is he so fond will be the tom
Of his self-love, to stop posterity
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime
So thou through windows of thine age shall see
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time
But if thou live, remember'd not to be
Die single, and thine image dies with thee

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet IV

Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy
Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend
And being frank she lends to those are free
Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give
Profitless usurer, why dost thou uss
So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live
For having traffic with thyself alone
Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive
Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone
What acceptable audit canst thou leave
Thy unused beauty must be tomb'd with thee
Which, used, lives th' executor to be

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet V

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter and confounds him there
Sap cheque'd with frost and lusty leaves quite gone
Beauty o'ersnow'd and bareness every where
Then, were not summer's distillation left
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft
Nor it nor no remembrance what it was
But flowers distill'd though they with winter meet
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet VI

Then let not winter's ragged hand deface
In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty's treasure, ere it be self-kill'd
That use is not forbidden usury
Which happies those that pay the willing loan
That's for thyself to breed another thee
Or ten times happier, be it ten for one
Ten times thyself were happier than thou art
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee
Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart
Leaving thee living in posterity
Be not self-will'd, for thou art much too fair
To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet VII

Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight
Serving with looks his sacred majesty
And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill
Resembling strong youth in his middle age
yet mortal looks adore his beauty still
Attending on his golden pilgrimage
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract and look another way
So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon
Unlook'd on diest, unless thou get a son

[نازخاتون]

SonnetVIII

Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy
Why lovest thou that which thou receivest not gladly
Or else receivest with pleasure thine annoy
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds
By unions married, do offend thine ear
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering
Resembling sire and child and happy mother
Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one
Sings this to thee: 'thou single wilt prove none

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet IX

Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye
That thou consumest thyself in single life
Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die
The world will wail thee, like a makeless wife
The world will be thy widow and still weep
That thou no form of thee hast left behind
When every private widow well may keep
By children's eyes her husband's shape in mind
Look, what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it
But beauty's waste hath in the world an end
And kept unused, the user so destroys it
No love toward others in that bosom sits
That on himself such murderous shame commits

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet X

For shame! deny that thou bear'st love to any
Who for thyself art so unprovident
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many
But that thou none lovest is most evident
For thou art so possess'd with murderous hate
That 'gainst thyself thou stick'st not to conspire
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire
O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind
Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love
Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind
Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove
Make thee another self, for love of me
That beauty still may live in thine or thee

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet XI

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest
In one of thine, from that which thou departest
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowest
Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest
Herein lives wisdom, beauty and increase
Without this, folly, age and cold decay
If all were minded so, the times should cease
And threescore year would make the world away
Let those whom Nature hath not made for store
Harsh featureless and rude, barrenly perish
Look, whom she best endow'd she gave the more
Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish
She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby
Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet XII

When I do count the clock that tells the time
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night
When I behold the violet past prime
And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard
Then of thy beauty do I question make
That thou among the wastes of time must go
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet XIII

O, that you were yourself! but, love, you are
No longer yours than you yourself here live
Against this coming end you should prepare
And your sweet semblance to some other give
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination: then you were
Yourself again after yourself's decease
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay
Which husbandry in honour might uphold
Against the stormy gusts of winter's day
And barren rage of death's eternal cold
O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know
You had a father: let your son say so

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet XIV

Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck
And yet methinks I have astronomy
But not to tell of good or evil luck
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind
Or say with princes if it shall go well
By oft predict that I in heaven find
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive
If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert
Or else of thee this I prognosticate
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date

[نازخاتون]

Sonnet XV
When I consider every thing that grows
holds in perfection but a little moment
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment
When I perceive that men as plants increase
Cheered and cheque'd even by the self-same sky
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease
And wear their brave state out of memory
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight
Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night
And all in war with Time for love of you
As he takes from you, I engraft you new

[نازخاتون]

XVI.
But wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time
And fortify yourself in your decay
With means more blessed than my barren rhyme
Now stand you on the top of happy hours
And many maiden gardens yet unset
With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers
Much liker than your painted counterfeit
So should the lines of life that life repair
Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
Can make you live yourself in eyes of men
To give away yourself keeps yourself still
And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill

[نازخاتون]

XVI.
But wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time
And fortify yourself in your decay
With means more blessed than my barren rhyme
Now stand you on the top of happy hours
And many maiden gardens yet unset
With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers
Much liker than your painted counterfeit
So should the lines of life that life repai
Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
Can make you live yourself in eyes of men
To give away yourself keeps yourself still
And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill

[نازخاتون]

XVIII.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day
Thou art more lovely and more temperate
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May
And summer's lease hath all too short a date
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd
And every fair from fair sometime declines
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade
When in eternal lines to time thou growest
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see
So long lives this and this gives life to thee

[نازخاتون]

XIX.
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time
To the wide world and all her fading sweets
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime
O, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men
Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong
My love shall in my verse ever live young

[نازخاتون]

XX.
A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth
A man in hue, all 'hues' in his controlling
Much steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth
And for a woman wert thou first created
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting
And by addition me of thee defeated
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing
But since she prick'd thee out for women's pleasure
Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure

[نازخاتون]

XXI.
So is it not with me as with that Muse
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse
Making a couplement of proud compare
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems
O' let me, true in love, but truly write
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air
Let them say more than like of hearsay well
I will not praise that purpose not to sell

[نازخاتون]

XXII.
My glass shall not persuade me I am old
So long as youth and thou are of one date
But when in thee time's furrows I behold
Then look I death my days should expiate
For all that beauty that doth cover thee
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me
How can I then be elder than thou art
O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill
Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain
Thou gavest me thine, not to give back again

[نازخاتون]

XXIII.
As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put besides his part
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay
O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might
O, let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd
O, learn to read what silent love hath writ
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit

[نازخاتون]

XXIV.
Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held
And perspective it is the painter's art
For through the painter must you see his skill
To find where your true image pictured lies
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art
They draw but what they see, know not the heart

[نازخاتون]

XXV.
Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public honour and proud titles boast
Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars
Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most
Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread
But as the marigold at the sun's eye
And in themselves their pride lies buried
For at a frown they in their glory die
The painful warrior famoused for fight
After a thousand victories once foil'd
Is from the book of honour razed quite
And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd
Then happy I, that love and am beloved
Where I may not remove nor be removed

[نازخاتون]

XXVI.
Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit
To thee I send this written embassage
To witness duty, not to show my wit
Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it
But that I hope some good conceit of thine
In thy soul's thought, all naked, will bestow it
Till whatsoever star that guides my moving
Points on me graciously with fair aspect
And puts apparel on my tatter'd loving
To show me worthy of thy sweet respect
Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee
Till then not show my head where thou mayst prove me

[نازخاتون]

XXVII.
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body's work's expired
For then my thoughts, from far where I abide
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide
Looking on darkness which the blind do see
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind
For thee and for myself no quiet find

[نازخاتون]

XXVIII.
How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarr'd the benefit of rest
When day's oppression is not eased by night
But day by night, and night by day, oppress'd
And each, though enemies to either's reign
Do in consent shake hands to torture me
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee
I tell the day, to please them thou art bright
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven
So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer
And night doth nightly make grief's strength seem stronger

[نازخاتون]

XXIX.
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deal heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope
With what I most enjoy contented least
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising
Haply I think on thee, and then my state
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings

[نازخاتون]

XXX.
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan
Which I new pay as if not paid before
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend
All losses are restored and sorrows end

[نازخاتون]

XXXI.
Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts
Which I by lacking have supposed dead
And there reigns love and all love's loving parts
And all those friends which I thought buried
How many a holy and obsequious tear
Hath dear religious love stol'n from mine eye
As interest of the dead, which now appear
But things removed that hidden in thee lie
Thou art the grave where buried love doth live
Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone
Who all their parts of me to thee did give
That due of many now is thine alone
Their images I loved I view in thee
And thou, all they, hast all the all of me

[نازخاتون]

XXXII.
If thou survive my well-contented day
When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover
And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover
Compare them with the bettering of the time
And though they be outstripp'd by every pen
Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme
Exceeded by the height of happier men
O, then vouchsafe me but this loving thought
'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age
A dearer birth than this his love had brought
To march in ranks of better equipage
But since he died and poets better prove
Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love

[نازخاتون]

XXXIII.
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye
Kissing with golden face the meadows green
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face
And from the forlorn world his visage hide
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace
Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all triumphant splendor on my brow
But out, alack! he was but one hour mine
The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth
Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth

[نازخاتون]

XXXIV.
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day
And make me travel forth without my cloak
To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke
'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break
To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face
For no man well of such a salve can speak
That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief
Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss
The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence's cross
Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds
And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds

[نازخاتون]

XXXV.
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud
All men make faults, and even I in this
Authorizing thy trespass with compare
Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss
Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense
Thy adverse party is thy advocate
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence
Such civil war is in my love and hate
That I an accessary needs must be
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me

[hossein69]

Thanks a pile
Would u plz give us a feedback about these sonnets?