Imitative Poem 2: Shakespeare / シェイクスピア風英詩

ものまね英詩、第２弾。
シェイクスピア風ソネットです。

Thou art as fine as a rose in the field
Which hath the noble beauty with full grace;
In petals it is carefully concealed,
But its perfume enables us to trace.

Despite such virtue, the flower arms with
Sharp thorns of stalk that prick my finger oft,
While thou ow’st kindness of goddess in myth
And never fail to cover my hand soft.

A rose with no mind dies after some time,
When it withers and loses its past fair,
But thou shalt live forever in the rhyme
For our love in spirit is true and rare.

If words can be enough to describe thee,
All thy beauty will never cease to be.