Shakespeare's Sonnet 59: If There Be Nothing New, But That Which Is
If there be nothing new, but that which is
Hath been before, how are our brains beguil'd,
Which labouring for invention bear amiss
The second burthen of a former child.
Oh that record could with a backward look,
Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
Show me your image in some antique book,
Since mind at first in character was done,
That I might see what the old world could say
To this composed wonder of your frame;
Whether we are mended, or where better they,
Or whether revolution be the same.
Oh sure I am the wits of former days,
To subjects worse have given admiring praise.
Sonnet 59: Translation to modern English
As your slave, what else should I do but spend my time waiting to do whatever you want me to? I don't have any valuable time to spend, or any tasks to do until you need that. Nor do I dare complain about the endless hours as I watch the clock, waiting for you, my sovereign, nor contemplate the bitterness of separation after you've said goodbye to your servant. Nor do I dare allow my jealous thoughts to wonder where you may be, or speculate about what you may be up to, but like a forlorn slave, I wait, thinking of nothing except how happy you're making whoever you are with. Love makes such a fool out of one that he thinks nothing about whatever you do to satisfy your ideas.
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