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English (Early Modern English)
Versuri originale
Sonnet 128
How oft when thou, my music, music play’st,
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway’st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap,
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips which should that harvest reap,
At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!
To be so tickled, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips,
O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more bless’d than living lips.
Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.
Postat de 
SilentRebel83 la 2014-01-27
SilentRebel83 la 2014-01-27Colaboratori: 
SaintMark
SaintMarkChineză
Traducere#1#2
十四行诗第128首
多少次，你，我的音乐，弹奏在，
幸福的琴键上，轻快的声音，
从你轻柔的指尖流出，当你轻轻摇摆，
丝弦与我的双耳自在和鸣；
我常羡那琴键，轻盈、跳跃，
吻着你温柔的手心；
那本该是我可怜的嘴唇的收获，
却只能羞红脸在一旁艳羡失神；
心痒难熬，我的唇也欲，
与那欢快的琴键相处易境；
你的手指在它们身上漫步，
让这死去的木头比鲜活的嘴唇更幸运；
既然那孟浪的琴键能得如此快乐，
那就把手指给它们，把你的唇给我。
子弹∞盒子炮Comentarii
Russia is waging a disgraceful war on Ukraine. Stai cu Ucraina!
Despre traducător
Taken from Wikipedia.