William Shakespeare Sonnet I - V

SONNET – I

Mi duhawm berte chî thlah pung turin,

Duhawmna a chuai loh nân kan duh \hin,

Hun vanga tar chhiatna a lo thlen paw’n,

A thlahte’n a hlimthla an chawi vul nân,

Nang erawh mahni inhmangaih luain,

I duhawmna êng làm i chhi hlum ta,

Hmun hnianghnar berah \am i thlentirin,

Râwng takin duhawmna i hmelmâk ta,

Nang zawng, khuavel duhawmna thianghlim ber,

Nipui hmahruai entirtu i lo ni,

I kuhmumah i lungawina phumin,

Mi mawl, i inthuhrûk bo zawh tak hi,

Khawvel khawngaih rawh khai, a nih loh leh,

Nang leh khûr chuan lem bo mawlh che rawh se.

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From fairest creatures we desire increase,

That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,

But as the riper should by time decease

His tender heir might bear his memory. 5

But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,

Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,

Making a famine where abundance lies,

 Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament 10

And only herald to the gaudy spring,

 Within thine own bud buriest thy content,

And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding.

Pity the world, or else this glutton be,

To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

SONNET – II

Kum tamin i chaldar an zär buaia,

I vun nalh tak a tih vuai zet hunah chuan,

I vanglai duhawmna, mi tin thlir chu,

Hlo khirh ang maia hlu lo a ni ang,

Khawiah i mawina tinreng an bikbo,

I thothang \hatna tia zawhna,

I mit khur thûk tak, da vá-a chhan chu,

Zahthlak chan leh fakna dawrâwm ang chauh,

‘Chhûl ata lo piang nau duhawm tak hi,

Ka hun khawhralna, ka lo upat chhan’

Tia chhanna chuan fak a phu sauh ang,

I ai awhin a \hang hmel\ha chho ang a,

I upat hunin ani thil siam thar,

I inkiltawih huna i uanna tur chu.

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When forty winters shall besiege thy brow

And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,

Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now,

Will be a tattered weed, of small worth held.

Then being asked where all thy beauty lies,

Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,

To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes

Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.

How much more praise deserved thy beauty’s use

If thou couldst answer, “This fair child of mine

Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,”

Proving his beauty by succession thine.

This were to be new made when thou art old,

And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.

SONNET – III

I hlimthla thlirin a hnenah chi thlah hun,

A lo thleng ta tih hriattirin  hrilh ang che,

Tuna i intuaithar dawn si loh chuan,

Khawvel hawisanin chhûl i elsen ang,

Tu hmeichhia chuan nge pa i nihna tur,

Dalin i lakah a chhûl kharkhip ang?

Mahni inhmangaihna thlanah zâlin,

Tuin nge inthlahchhawn hlamchhiah ang ni?

Nang chu i nu hlimthla, i nu pawh nang,

A duhawm vanglai ber lantirtu chu,

I hmai a lo chuar hunah nang pawhin,

I thlahah i vanglai hlim i thlir ang

Hriatreng duh lo va i nun erawh chuan,

Thlanah i hlimthla malin vui liam rawh.

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Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest,

Now is the time that face should form another,

Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,

Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

For where is she so fair whose uneared womb

Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?

Or who is he so fond will be the tomb

Of his self-love, to stop posterity?

Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee

Calls back the lovely April of her prime;

So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,

Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.

But if thou live remembered not to be,

Die single and thine image dies with thee.

SONNET – IV

Duhawmna tlaran, nang hian eng vanga,

Mahniah vek i rochan i tih tawp?

Khuarel chuan phut nei lo va puktirin,

Mi thilphalte chauh a malsawm ţhin hi,

Nang uikawm duhawm, engah chuan nge,

Duhawmna i dawn i pêk chhuah phal loh?

Nang, hlawkna tél lo sum tam hmang ralin,

Kumkhaw daih nun erawh i neih si loh?

Mahni chauh inbuaipuiin mahni ngei,

Hrilhhai theihtawpin i siam ta zawk a,

Thihnain a zial hunah meuh che chuan,

Eng chhuanlam pawmawm tak hnutchhiah che maw?

Thliah loh i mawina chu thlanah zâlhin,

Hmangaihna ţilţiak, nang chawisângtu tur chu!

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Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend

Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy?

Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,

And, being frank, she lends to those are free.

Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse

The bounteous largess given thee to give?

Profitless usurer, why dost thou use

So great a sum of sums yet canst not live?

For having traffic with thyself alone,

Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive.

Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,

What acceptable audit canst thou leave?

Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,

Which usèd lives th' executor to be.

SONNET – V

Hunte’n duat taka an cheimawi i hmel,

Mi tin mithmuhna rûktirtu ngei chuan,

I chungah vek râwng taka rawn ţuanin,

I vanglai duhawmna a rawn ţhiat ang,

Chawlh zai rel lo hun hian nipui meuh pawh,

Thlasik vin túkah zûk dàin hnah chawr,

Ti ţilin hrilhhaiin a siam ţhin hi,

Vura khuh boin rah a chhuah hek lo,

Nipui pangpâr rimtuina thlawr lovin,

Palangah dahţhat ni suh se la chuan,

Nipui tawp rualin a duhawmna rah,

Chuaiin hriat reng tur sulhnu a nei lo’ng,

Thlasik lo thlenin a pâr chuai mah se,

A rimtuina lêng vel a châm reng ţhin.

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Those hours that with gentle work did frame

The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell

Will play the tyrants to the very same

And that unfair which fairly doth excel.

For never-resting time leads summer on

To hideous winter and confounds him there,

Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,

Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness everywhere.

Then were not summer’s distillation left,

A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,

Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft,

Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.

But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,

Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.