十四行诗 Sonnet 50

How heavy do I journey on the way,

When what I seek, my weary travel's end,

Doth teach that ease and that repose to say

'Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!'

The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,

Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,

As if by some instinct the wretch did know

His rider loved not speed, being made from thee:

The bloody spur cannot provoke him on

That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide;

Which heavily he answers with a groan,

More sharp to me than spurring to his side;

For that same groan doth put this in my mind;

My grief lies onward and my joy behind.

多么沉重地我在旅途上跋涉，

当我的目的地（我倦旅的终点）

唆使安逸和休憩这样对我说：

"你又离开了你的朋友那么远！"

那驮我的畜牲，经不起我的忧厄，

驮着我心里的重负慢慢地走，

仿佛这畜牲凭某种本能晓得

它主人不爱快，因为离你远游：

有时恼怒用那血淋淋的靴钉

猛刺它的皮，也不能把它催促；

它只是沉重地报以一声呻吟，

对于我，比刺它的靴钉还要残酷，

　　因为这呻吟使我省悟和熟筹：

　　我的忧愁在前面，快乐在后头。