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Sonnet 73

Original Text

That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

Modern English

In me you can see that time of year when yellow leaves — or none, or only a few — still cling to branches shaking in the cold, bare ruined branches where birds sang not long ago.

Original Text

In me thou see’st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.

Modern English

In me you see the fading light of a day that has already set in the west; the light that darkness soon will swallow whole — that second self of death, which seals everything in rest.

Original Text

In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed, whereon it must expire, Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.

Modern English

In me you see the dying glow of a fire that lies on the ashes of what once fed it, dying on the very bed where it must go out, smothered at last by the same fuel that once kept it alive.

Original Text

This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.

Modern English

You see all this — and that is what makes your love stronger: to love well what you know you must soon lose.

Shakespeare's Sonnets

Sonnet 73

Sonnet 73