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Sonnet 67
Shakespeare's Sonnets Translation Sonnet 68
Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flow'rs do now, Before these bastard signs of fair were born, Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchers, were shorn away, To live a second life on second head; Ere beauty’s dead fleece made another gay. In him those holy ántique hours are seen, Without all ornament, itself and true, Making no summer of another’s green, Robbing no old to dress his beauty new; And him as for a map doth nature store, To show false art what beauty was of yore.
Thus his cheek is the map of worn out days,
When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
Before these illegitimate signs of beauty were born,
Or dared to put them on a living body.
Before the golden hair of the dead,
Which belong in the tomb, were cut off,
To live a second life on another person's head;
Before beauty's dead hair made another happy.
In him those holy ancient hours are seen,
Without any ornament, true to itself,
Not making itself look like summer with another's green,
Stealing no old thing to make his beauty look new;
And nature keeps him as a map,
To show false art what beauty used to be.
