When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
当四十个冬天围攻你的朱颜，
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
在你美的园地挖下深的战壕，
Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
你青春的华服，那么被人艳羡，
Will be a tattered weed of small worth held:   
将成褴褛的败絮，谁也不要瞧：
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,  
那时人若问起你的美在何处，
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
哪里是你那少壮年华的宝藏，
To say within thine own deep sunken eyes,
你说，"在我这双深陷的眼眶里，
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
是贪婪的羞耻，和无益的颂扬。"
How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,
你的美的用途会更值得赞美，
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
如果你能够说，"我这宁馨小童
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse'
将总结我的账，宽恕我的老迈，"
Proving his beauty by succession thine.
证实他的美在继承你的血统！
This were to be new made when thou art old,
这将使你在衰老的暮年更生，
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
并使你垂冷的血液感到重温。
（梁宗岱译）