Soneto XXII
Mi espejo no me convencerá de que soy viejo,
Mientras tú y la juventud tengan la misma edad;
Mas cuando en ti note los surcos que hace el tiempo,
Veré en la muerte la expiación de mis días.
Dado que la belleza que te cubre por completo
Es el digno ropaje de mi corazón,
Y en tu pecho vive, como el tuyo en el mío:
¿Cómo puedo entonces ser mayor que tú?
Por eso, amor, se cuidadosa
Como yo, no por mí, sino por ti;
Teniendo tu corazón que cuidaré con celo,
Cual tierna nodriza a su niño enfermo.
No cuentes con tu corazón si el mío está muerto:
Tú me lo diste, para no ser devuelto.
(My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee,
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O! therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain,
Thou gav'st me thine not to give back again.)
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee,
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O! therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain,
Thou gav'st me thine not to give back again.)
William Shakespeare (Inglaterra, 1564-1616)
(Traducido del inglés por Jules Etienne)
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