LXV.

ͳ ì³äü, í³ êàì³íü, í³ çåìëÿ, í³ ìîðå,
Ëèø ñìåðòü îäíà ïîáîðå ¿õíþ ì³öü,
ßê â ö³é çëîá³ êðàñà ùå çàãîâîðèòü,
Äå â³ê ¿¿ íå á³ëüø òðèâêèé í³æ öâ³ò.
ßê ìîæå ë³òà ìåäîâîãî ïîäèõ
³äñòîÿòè îáëîãó é íàñòóï äí³â,
Êîëè íåñõèòíèõ ñêàë ãðàí³ò íå ãîäåí,
ͳ áðàì çàë³çî; ×àñ ¿õ âñ³õ ïî¿â.
Î, ðîçäóìå ñòðàøíèé, ÷è íå óêðèòè
³ä ×àñó ×àñó ñàìîöâ³ò óæå,
Äå òà ì³öíà ðóêà, ùî ìîæå â³äðîäèòè
Êðàñó ³ õòî â³ä ñìåðòè çáåðåæå?

ͳõòî, õ³áà öå ÷óäî æèòòºïèñíå:
Ìîÿ ëþáîâ â ìî¿ì ÷îðíèë³ áëèñíå.

* * *

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
    O, none, unless this miracle have might,
    That in black ink my love may still shine bright.