O! How thy worth with manners may I sing,
When thou art all the better part of me?
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee?
Even for this, let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give
That due to thee which thou deserv’st alone.
O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave,
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
By praising him here who doth hence remain.

Sonnet 39: Translation to modern English

How can I proclaim your worth with due modesty when you are my better half? What could I get out of praising myself, and what else am I doing but praising myself when I praise you? For this reason we should part and our great love lose its common identity so that I can give you the praise that you deserve for yourself alone. Oh absence, what a torment you would be if it weren’t that the ill-intentioned leisure you give me allows me the pleasure of passing the time with thoughts of love, which makes it pass so swiftly. And that you teach me how to bring us together through my praising him here, while he remains elsewhere.

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