Shakespeare's Sonnets Translation Sonnet 7
Lo, in the Orient when the gracious light Lifts up his burning head, each under eye Doth homage to his new-appearing sight, Serving with looks his sacred majesty; And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill, Resembling strong youth in his middle age, Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still, Attending on his golden pilgrimage. But when from highmost pitch, with weary car, Like feeble age he reeleth from the day, The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are From his low tract and look another way. So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon, Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.
Look, in the East when the great light
Lifts up his burning head, each eye underneath
Pays homage to this new-appearing sight,
Serving this sacred majesty with their gazes.
Having climbed the steep hill in the heavens,
Resembling a strong youth in his middle age,
And inferior humans still worship his beauty,
Watching his golden journey across the sky.
But when from its highest point, in a weary chariot,
Like weak old age, he staggers away from the day,
The eyes, before so dutiful, are now turned away
From his downfall and look another way.
So you, reaching your own downfall in your noon,
Will soon be left alone unless you father a son.
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