Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;
All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due,
Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown'd;
But those same tongues that give thee so thine own
In other accents do this praise confound
By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
They look into the beauty of thy mind,
And that, in guess, they measure by thy deeds;
Then, churls, their thoughts, although their eyes were kind,
To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:
But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
The solve is this, that thou dost common grow.
你那眾目共睹的無瑕的芳容,
誰的心思都不能再加以增改;
眾口,靈魂的聲音,都一致贊同:
赤的真理,連仇人也無法掩蓋。
這樣,表面的贊揚載滿你儀表;
但同一聲音,既致應有的崇敬,
便另換口吻去把這贊揚勾消,
當心靈看到眼看不到的內心。
它們向你那靈魂的美的海洋
用你的操行作測量器去探究,
于是吝嗇的思想,眼睛雖大方,
便加給你的鮮花以野草的惡臭:
為什么你的香味趕不上外觀?
土壤是這樣,你自然長得平凡。