SONNET 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more 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 roses damask'd, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go;

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

As any she belied with false compare.

(William Shakespeare)

Ne, ona nima žametnih oči

                       in niti kodrov kakor svila;

če sneg je bel, 

ga v njenih nedrih ni;

in usta bi se od koral ločila;

sem videl rože, bele in rdeče 

-na njenih licih take ne cvetó;

in so dišave, mnogo bolj dehteče

kot vonj, ki veje njeno ga telo;

njen glas poslušam rad, 

četudi vem,da zvoki strun prijetneje zvené;

kako boginje hodijo, ne vem,

ko ona hodi - stopa kot ljudje;

in vendar se mi zdi bolj očarljiva

kot vse, ki pesem jih slaví lažniva.

Prevod Janez Menart