Sonnet 100 Sonett Sonett 100 Sonnet 100 Sonetto 100 Soneto 100 Сонет 100 Сонет 100 十四行詩 100

Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long. ||||||vergisst|| |||Múzsa|||||

To speak of that which gives thee all thy might? To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?

Spend’st thou thy fury on some worthless song, verbringst|||||||

Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?

Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem

In gentle numbers time so idly spent;

Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem |||||tesz|||nagyra becsül

And gives thy pen both skill and argument.

Rise, resty Muse, my love’s sweet face survey,

If Time have any wrinkle graven there;

If any, be a satire to decay,

And make Time’s spoils despised every where.

Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life; |||hírnév|||||

So thou prevent’st his scythe and crooked knife. ||||kasza||görbe|