Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Non lasciate che al matrimonio of soul sincere
I Admit impediments. Love is not love if it changes when she meets
changes
or tends to go with whoever turns away:
oh, no! It 'an ever fixed
watching the storms without being shaken;
is the star of each boat adrift,
of unknown value, although measurable distance.
Love is not the joker of the time, though rosy lips and cheeks
must pass below the crescent curved in the direction indicated by him.
Love does not change in the brief hours and weeks, but
resist until the end of the day.
If this is false and I will try,
I never wrote, nor no man ever loved.
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