William Shakespeare



                   Sonnet 59


                   If there be nothing new, but that which is
                   Hath been before, how are our brains beguil'd,
                   Which labouring for invention bear amiss
                   The second burthen of a former child.

                   Oh that record could with a backward look,
                   Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
                   Show me your image in some antique book,
                   Since mind at first in character was done,

                   That I might see what the old world could say
                   To this composed wonder of your frame;
                   Whether we are mended, or where better they,
                   Or whether revolution be the same.

                   Oh sure I am the wits of former days,
                   To subjects worse have given admiring praise.


    __________________________________________________________________________________________


                   Вернуться к переводу     Перейти на страницу автора