My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far thêm red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen hoa hồng damask'd, red and white,
But no such hoa hồng see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there thêm delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I tình yêu to hear her speak, yet well I know
That âm nhạc hath a far thêm pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, bởi heaven, I think my tình yêu as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Coral is far thêm red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen hoa hồng damask'd, red and white,
But no such hoa hồng see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there thêm delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I tình yêu to hear her speak, yet well I know
That âm nhạc hath a far thêm pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, bởi heaven, I think my tình yêu as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
