Fwd from cy Kung

Dear All Friends:
ÓÃß@‚€sonnet 130 ÔÚ´º¹�é_ˆöÊÇÓ²ÁËÒ»üc,°üº­°üº¬

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µÚÊ®Ëľä×îáá¿‚½YµÄÒ»¾ä, Ó¢ÎÄÉÏÆß‚€×Ö, As any she belied with false compare.ÊDZ¾ÔŠ×î¶ÌµÄÒ»¾ä, ¼ÓÉϵÚÊ®Èý¾äµÄ as rare, Ö±×gÈçÏÂ: ÕýÈçÈκÎËý±»åeÕ`±È”MÕ`Œ§(ÑÚÉw)µÄÌØÙ|Ò»˜ÓµÄÕäÙF,íš22‚€ÖÐÎÄ×Ö, ÔÚÎÒ·­×gɯÊÏsonnetÎľäÖÐ,ËãÊǺĵô×î¶àƪ·ù.

›]ÏëñRÄê×îááÒ»Ò¹, ×gÍêÉзQÍêÃÀµÄsonnet 130, ÎÒµÄÀÏÆÅ�ÛÈË, ×öžé¼ªÑò«I½oÀÏÆÅ

Sonnet 130ÎÒµÄÀÏÆÅ�ÛÈË By C.Y.Kung, Ø•ÖÐÔª (Éî×g) 95 ·Ö

My mistress¡¯ eyes are nothing like the sun, ÎÒ(ÀÏÆÅ)�ÛÈ˵ÄË«ÑÛ,²»Èçìãê–ÎÂÇé,12×Ö

Coral is far more red, than her lips red, ɺº÷ÖìÆG, ßh„Ùì¶Ëý¼tÉ«Ë«´½,£º(13)

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun: Ò•Ñ©°×žéÃÀ£¬ËýÐظ¬ÊÇ°µºÖÃÀ‘a(13)

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head: °Ý½ðóŒÎ¨ÉУ¬Ëýî^ÉϵĺÚóŒ´ÖÓ² (13)

I have seen roses damasked, red and white, ÎÒÔøÒŠß^õ¹å°×ÖÐ͸¼tµÄ‹ÉÃÀ, (13)

But no such roses see I in her cheeks , ÔÚ�ÛÈ˵ÄË«¼Õ,È´Ÿo´ËÐßÈÝ�­í�£»(13)

And in some perfumes is there more delight, ÔS¶àÏãζ,“ä±ÇµÄÁîÈË�‚Š^£¬(11)

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. ÎÒ�ÛÈ˵ijC´­,…sŸo´ËñNÜ°¡£(11)

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know, ÎÒ°®Â ËýµÄÕ„Õ“£¬�KÇÒÎҺܴ_¶¨(13)

That music hath a far more pleasing sound: Õ“Õ{ÑeÓÐÒ»·Nßh¶àì¶Óä�‚µÄÊ•íy£»(13)

I grant I never saw a goddess go, ÎÒ³ÐÕJ�Äδ¼ûß^ÏÉÅ®ÆÅ涿£¬(13)

My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.ÎÒ�ÛÈ˵IJ½Õ{,È´ÊǽÅ̤Œ�µØ(Ðо³)13‧

And yet by heaven I think my love as rare, ÉÏÉnÃ÷èa,ÎÒÐÅ´Ë�Û˜OžéÕäÙF(12)

As any she belied with false compare. (ÕýÈç)Ëý±»Çú½âµÄÈκÎÌØÙ|,¶¼ÊÇÖÁÕä.(13)

(ÔÚß@ÑeÕäÙFµÄÌØÙ|ÊÇÖ¸ speak ¸ßÕ„ and walks ½Å̤ʵµØ)

Sonnet 130 Ö±×g

My mistress¡¯ eyes are nothing like the sun, ÎÒÇéÈ˵ÄË«ÑÛ, ›]ÓÐÒ»ücÏñÌ«ê–,

Coral is far more red, than her lips red, ɺº÷µÄÖìÆGßh„Ùì¶Ëý¼tÉ«Ë«´½,

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun: Èç¹ûÑ©Êǰ׵ģ¬žéºÎËýÐظ¬ÊÇ°µºÖÉ«

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head: ÃÀóŒÊǽðµÄ£¬Ëýî^ÉÏéLµÄÊǺÚÉ«Ó²óŒ

I have seen roses damasked, red and white, ÎÒÔø¼û°×ÖÐ͸¼tµÄõ¹å,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks , ÔÚÇéÈ˵ÄË«¼Õ,È´Ÿo´Ë‹ÉÃÀ£»

And in some perfumes is there more delight, ÔS¶àÏãζ“ä±Ç,±ÈÎÒ�ÛÈ˵ģ¬

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. ºôÎüµÄ(³ô)šâζ¸üÁîÈËÐÀ�‚¡£

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know, , ÎÒ°®Â ËýµÄÕ„Õ“,¿ÉÊÇÎҺܴ_¶¨

That music hath a far more pleasing sound: , Òô˜·µÄÔöúßhƒžì¶ËýµÄɤÒô£»

I grant I never saw a goddess go, ÎÒ³ÐÕJ�Äδ¼ûß^ÏÉÅ®²½×Ë£¬

My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. ÎÒ�ÛÈ˵IJ½Õ{,È´ÊǽÅ̤ʵµØ

And yet by heaven I think my love as rare, ÉÏÉnÃ÷èa,ÎÒÐÅ´Ë�Û˜OžéÕäÙF(º±ÒŠ)

As any she belied with false compare. ÕýÈçÈκÎËý±»åeÕ`±È”MÕ`Œ§(ÑÚÉw)µÄÌØÙ|Ò»˜ÓµÄÕäÙF(º±ÒŠ)

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