Shakespeare's Sonnets Translation Sonnet 115
Those lines that I before have writ do lie, Ev'n those that said I could not love you dearer. Yet then my judgment knew no reason why My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer. But reck'ning time, whose millioned accidents Creep in ’twixt vows, and change decrees of kings, Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp’st intents, Divert strong minds to the course of alt'ring things. Alas, why, fearing of time’s tyranny, Might I not then say, “Now I love you best,” When I was certain o'er incertainty, Crowning the present, doubting of the rest? Love is a babe; then might I not say so, To give full growth to that which still doth grow?
The lines that I have written before are lies,
Even those that said that I could not love you more.
But then my judgment didn't have reason to believe
That my most perfect passion would later be more intense.
But taking into account time, whose millions of chance events
Come between promises and change the decrees of kings,
Ruin sacred beauty, and blunt the most eager intentions,
And divert strong minds into the course of mutable things.
Alas, fearing time's tyranny, why
Could I not have said, "I love you most right now,"
When I was certain beyond any uncertainty,
Certain of my present, and suspecting everything else?
Love is a baby; so why can't I say that,
To make fully grown what is still growing?
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