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Sonnet 106

Original Text

When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rime, In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,

Modern English

When I read through the chronicles of ages past, I find descriptions of the most beautiful people, and poetry made beautiful by beauty itself, written in praise of lovely ladies and gallant knights,

Original Text

Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express’d Even such a beauty as you master now.

Modern English

Then, in those blazons of perfect beauty's gifts — of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow — I can see that those ancient poets were trying to describe the exact beauty you possess right now.

Original Text

So all their praises are but prophecies Of this our time, all you prefiguring; And for they looked but with divining eyes, They had not skill enough your worth to sing:

Modern English

So all their praise was nothing more than prophecy, anticipating this age, prefiguring you; and because they could only see by guessing at the future, they lacked the skill to sing your worth as it deserves:

Original Text

For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.

Modern English

For we, who live in this present age and see you, have eyes enough to wonder, but no words fit to praise.

Shakespeare's Sonnets

Sonnet 106

Sonnet 106