跪求莎士比亚十四行诗英文原版#4到#9。

如题，跪求SONNET #4 、SONNET #5 、SONNET #6 、SONNET #7 、SONNET #8 、SONNET #9 。

莎士比亚十四行诗15
When I consider every thing that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment.
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment.
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky:
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory.
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay,
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
Where wasteful time debateth with decay
To change your day of youth to sullied night,
And all in war with Time for love of you,
As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

我琢磨着所有成长着的东西，
它们都只有那么短的全盛时期，
这巨大的舞台上演的只是一幕幕的戏，
早已被上苍的星宿安排完毕。
当我看到人和草木一样生长繁衍，
任凭同一个老天将他们鼓励阻拦。
青春期蓬蓬勃勃，全盛时由该走向凋落，
繁华和璀璨都将从记忆中消散。
我于是对这无常的世界浮想联翩，
你的青春妙龄便在我的眼前闪现。
无情的时光在与腐朽争辩，
如何用污浊的黑夜换取你青春靓丽的容颜。
为了对你的爱，我会全力与时间争战，
他要摧毁你，我却要把你的青春再现。

莎士比亚十四行诗原文 sonnet #1 by: william shakespeare from fairest creatures we desire increase, that thereby beauty's rose might never die, but as the riper should by time decease, his tender heir might bear his memory; but thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, making a famine where abundance lies, thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. thout that are now the world's fresh ornament and only herald to the gaudy spring, within thine own bud buriest thy content and, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding. pity the world, or else this glutton be, to eat the world's due, by the grave and thee. sonnet #2 by: william shakespeare when forty winters shall besiege thy brow and dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now, will be a tottered weed of small worth held: then being asked where all thy beauty lies, where all the treasure of thy lusty days, to say within thine own deep-sunken eyes were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise. how much more prasie deserved thy beauty's use if thou couldst answer, 'this fair child of mine shall sum my count and make my old excuse,' proving his beauty by succession thine. this were to be new made when thou art old and see thy blood warm when thou feel'st cold. sonnet #3 by: william shakespeare look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest now is the time that face should form another, whose fresh repair if now thou renewest, thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. for where is she so fair whose uneared womb disdains the tillage of thy husbandry? or who is he so fond will be the tomb of his self-love, to stop posterity? thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee calls back the lovely april of her prime; so thou through windows of thine age shalt see, despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time. but if thou live rememb'red not to be, die single, and thine image dies with thee. sonnet #4 by: william shakespeare unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend upon thyself they beauty's legacy? nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend, and, being frank, she lends to those are free. then, beateous niggard, why dost thou abuse the bounteous largess given thee to give? profitless userer, why dost thou use so great a sum of sums, yet canst not live? for, having traffic with thyself alone, thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive: then how, when nature calls thee to be gone, what acceptable audit canst thou leave? thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee, which, usèd, lives th' executor to be. sonnet #5 by: william shakespeare those hours that with gentle work did frame the lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell will play the tyrants to the very same and that unfair which fairly doth excel; for never-resting time leads summer on to hideous winter and confounds him there, sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone, beauty o'ersnowed and bareness everywhere. then, were not summer's distillation left a liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass, beauty's effect with beauty were bereft, nor it nor no remembrance what it was: but flowers distilled, though they with winter meet, leese but there snow; their substance still lives sweet.