Birthday

Who will believe my verse in time to come,
将来谁还会相信我的这些唱词呢
If it were filled with your most high deserts?
如果是这样饱含如此华美的篇章？
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
尽管,天知道,这只是一座坟墓,
Which hides your life and shows not half your parts
埋着你的生命和一半的本色。
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
如果我能描摹流盼的美目，
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
把你的千娇百媚织入我的诗行,
The age to come would say：This poet lies
未来的时代定为断言这是诗人的谎言
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