К сонету 74 У. Шекспира

But be contented when that fell arrest
Without all bail shall carry me away,
My life hath in this line some interest,
Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
The very part was consecrate to thee:
The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
My spirit is thine, the better part of me.
So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
The prey of worms, my body being dead,
The coward conquest of a wretch's knife,
Too base of thee to be remembered:
The worth of that is that which it contains,
And that is this, and this with thee remains.



Не унывай, когда в жестоком заточенье
Я буду пребывать без права не освобожденье,
Строка моих стихов протянет за собой
От жизни след, оставив за спиной
Ту часть меня, что лучшею была.
И вся она, бессмертная душа, - твоя…
Хоть забрала меня земля,
Ты не теряешь ничего…
Лишен судьбою я, храня теперь покой.