Sonnet 013 (Giá mà trời cho chúng ta sống mãi) Sonnet 013 (O that you were youself! But, love, you are)

Sonnet 013 (O that you were youself! But, love, you are)

O that you were youself! But, love, you are
No longer yours than you yourself here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give.

So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination; then you were
(Yourself) again after yourself’s decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.

Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold
Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day
And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?

O, none but unthrifts: dear my love, you know
You had a father, let your son say so.