She's all states, and all princes I,
Nothing else is.
Yes, she is the whole world to me, all its kingdoms rolled into one, and I myself am every monarch. [In fact, so completely are we each the whole world to the other that] nothing else even exists , not really.
Princes do but play us; compared to this,
All honor's mimic, all wealth alchemy.
[Oh yes, there are] kings and princes [in the world, but they] stand to us as mere actors do to the truly real figures they mimic. Indeed, in comparison with what we enjoy, every kind of external mark of rank or respect is ersatz, mere imitation, and every kind of riches as illusory as the fool's gold that alchemists claim to be able to make from base metal.
Thou, sun, art half as happy as we,
In that the world's contracted thus;
Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
To warm the world, that's done in warming us.
[Thinking of this, I feel so satisfied I can even get over my irritation at your presence: you can stay, after all.] Indeed you, my dear sun, can feel happy too -- not, of course, as happy as we, but half as much, say. [Why?] Because, as I've explained to you, we encapsulate the entire world; you, being ancient, need to take it easy nowadays, and so, your task being to bring heat to the whole world, you can fulfill it quite easily simply by warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;
This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere.
So go ahead, shine in on us, and in doing so you're shining everywhere. This bed is the center of the cosmos around which you rotate, and the walls of this room are the invisible sphere which holds you in the heavens.
THE END.(fuck,él otra vez)
-Thy beams so reverend and strong
Why shouldst thou think?
-What on earth makes you think your light beams deserve any respect from us, or are all that powerful?
-I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,
But that I would not lose her sight so long;
-Why, I could cover them over just as effectively as clouds or eclipses do merely by closing my eyes -- except that I'm unwilling to give up the sight of my beloved even for such a brief instant of time.
-If her eyes have not blinded thine,
Look, and tomorrow late tell me,
Whether both th'Indias of spice and mine
Be where thou left'st them, or lie here with me.
Escrito con esa maldita letra que aún me cuesta -ronunciar
Love all alike, no season knows nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
[All those are your appropriate objects of attention, but in contrast]
Love is immune from your interference, since it is unvarying and experiences neither climatic nor seasonal changes, neither waxing nor waning, growing never hotter, never colder: thus it has nothing to do with such contemptible trivia as hours, days, or months, the insignificant minute temporal particulars you have to be concerned with [in your role as time setter].
___________________Busy old fool, unruly sun,
___________________Why dost thou thus,
___________________Through windows and through curtains call on us?
You interfering stupid old busybody, you, Sun, who obey no regular rules
why are visiting us and waking us up like this, intruding on our privacy by coming in through the [room's] windows and the [bed's] curtains?
___________________Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?
Do you think that we lovers are obliged to adjust the growth and decay of our love, its [sexual] rise and fall, to your movements [the way the physical world does]?