Sonnets of William Shakespeare-Sonnet 140

　　My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;

　　Lest sorrow lend me words and words express

　　The manner of my pity-wanting pain.

　　If I might teach thee wit, better it were,

　　Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;

　　As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,

　　No news but health from their physicians know;

　　For if I should despair, I should grow mad,

　　And in my madness might speak ill of thee:

　　Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,

　　Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be,

　　That I may not be so, nor thou belied,

　　Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.

　　你狠心，也該放聰明;別讓侮蔑

　　把我不作聲的忍耐逼得太甚;

　　免得悲哀賜我喉舌，讓你領(lǐng)略

　　我的可憐的痛苦會(huì)怎樣發(fā)狠。

　　你若學(xué)了乖，愛呵，就覺得理應(yīng)

　　對(duì)我說你愛我，縱使你不如此;

　　好像暴躁的病人，當(dāng)死期已近，

　　只愿聽醫(yī)生報(bào)告健康的消息;

　　因?yàn)槲胰羰墙^望，我就會(huì)發(fā)瘋，

　　瘋狂中難保不把你胡亂咒罵：

　　這乖張世界是那么不成體統(tǒng)，

　　瘋狂的耳總愛聽瘋子的壞話。

　　要我不發(fā)瘋，而你不遭受誹謗，

　　你得把眼睛正視，盡管心放蕩。