Shakespeare's Sonnets Translation Sonnet 28
How can I then return in happy plight That am debarred the benefit of rest? When day’s oppression is not eased by night, But day by night and night by day oppressed? And each, though enemies to either’s reign, Do in consent shake hands to torture me, The one by toil, the other to complain How far I toil, still farther off from thee. I tell the day to please him thou art bright, And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven. So flatter I the swart-complexioned night, When sparkling stars twire not, thou gild’st the even. But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, And night doth nightly make grief’s length seem stronger.
Then how can I return to a state of happiness
When I am prevented from resting?
When the pressure of the day is not relieved at night,
But day is oppressed by night and night by day?
And although they are enemies to each other,
They join forces to torture me,
The day with labor, and the night with thoughts
Of how my work takes me even further away from you.
I tell the day, to please him, about how radiant you are,
And how your radiance honors him even when the clouds cover the sky.
I give the same flattery to the dark-faced night,
Telling him that when stars do not twinkle, you brighten the evening.
But, every day, the day makes my sorrows longer,
And, every night, the night makes my grief feel stronger.
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