CXLVII<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> My love is as a fever longing still, For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please: My reason the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept Hath left me, and I desperate now approve, Desire is death, which physic did except. Past cure I am, now reason is past care, And frantic-mad with evermore unrest, My thoughts and my discourse as mad men’s are, At random from the truth vainly expressed. For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. 147 我的爱是一种热病,它老切盼 那能够使它长期保养的单方, 服食一种能维持病状的药散, 使多变的病态食欲长久盛旺。 理性(那医治我的爱情的医生) 生气我不遵守他给我的嘱咐, 把我扔下,使我绝望,因为不信 医药的欲望,我知道,是条死路。 我再无生望,既然丧失了理智, 整天都惶惑不安、烦躁、疯狂; 无论思想或谈话,全像个疯子, 脱离了真实,无目的,杂乱无章; 因为我曾赌咒说你美,说你璀璨, 你却是地狱一般黑,夜一般暗。 (梁宗岱 译)
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