他的面颊是表明这古代的地图，
When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
那时候，美的私生子徽章没人戴，
Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
也不敢公然在活人额头上居住；
Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
那时候，一座座坟墓夺得的战利品——
Before the golden tresses of the dead,
死者的金色鬈发，还没被剪下来
The right of sepulchers, were shorn away
装饰在别人头上度第二次生命，
To live a second life on second head,
那美发还没来盛装活人的脑袋；
Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay.
他的脸正显出那个神圣的往昔，
In him those holy antique hours are seen,
没半点装饰，只有本色和真相，
Without all ornament, itself and true,
不利用别人的葱绿来建造夏季，
Making no summer of another's green,
不强抢古董来做他美貌的新装；
Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;
造化藏着他做地图，教人工美容匠
And him as for a map doth Nature store,
来认清古代的美是什么模样。
To show false Art what beauty was of yore.