When in the history of past time,
I see descriptions of the most beautiful people,
And that beauty making beautiful old poems
Praising ladies who are now dead and lovely knights;
Then in the praise of the most beautiful things,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of forehead,
I see that the writers of the past would have expressed
The beauty that you effortlessly possess now.
So their praises were only prophecies 
Of the present, all of them predicting you.
And because they only looked through their predictions,
They did not have enough skill to praise you properly:
For we, who can actually see the present days,
Have eyes to admire you with, but lack tongues to praise.