Shall I compare thee to a shooting star?
Thou art more captivating and more composed:
Rough winds do shake thy glorious grace,
And thy cosmos hath too short a of a term:
Sometimes too faint for the eyes of celestial beings to see,
And often its luminous flushes sombre;
And from just to just sometimes downfall,
By chance or nature’s unsteady flow thy pure shining guise is deathless;
But thy immortal fairness shall not dull
Nor lose thy title on thy unlimited rays;
Nor shall thy silence thou shall cruise in its screen,
When in infinite stave thou gain:
So long as personal can exhale and behold,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem