Shakespeare's Sonnets Translation Sonnet 57
Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services to do, till you require. Nor dare I chide the world without end hour Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour When you have bid your servant once adieu. Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought Save, where you are, how happy you make those. So true a fool is love that in your will, Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.
Being your servant, what can I do but wait
During the hours and appointments of your desire?
My time is not precious at all
And I don't have work to do until you require me.
Nor do I complain of the endlessness of the time
That I wait for you, my king,
Nor do I think that the bitterness of absence is sour
When you have dismissed your servant (me).
Nor do I dare to ask possessive questions
About where you are, or about your business,
But, like a sad slave, I wait and think of nothing
Except how happy you make those who are where you are.
I am such an absolutely faithful fool in love, that
I think you can do no wrong, whatever you do.
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