Shakespeare's Sonnets Translation Sonnet 35
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done. Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud. All men make faults, and even I in this, Authórizing thy trespass with compare, Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss, Excusing their sins more than their sins are. For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense— Thy adverse party is thy advocate— And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence. Such civil war is in my love and hate That I an áccessory needs must be To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
Do not be sad any longer about what you have done.
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains have mud in them;
Clouds and eclipses blot out both the moon and the sun,
And disgusting caterpillar lives in the most beautiful flower.
All men make mistakes, and even I do, in this sonnet,
Justifying your crime with my comparisons,
Corrupting myself by healing your faults,
Excusing your sins more than they deserve.
I bring reason to explain your faults
Your opponent has become your lawyer.
And in doing so I begin to argue against myself.
There is a civil war between my love and my hate:
I must become an accessory
To that sweet thief who bitterly robs from me.