Soneto XCIV

They that have power to hurt and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow,

They rightly do inherit heaven's graces
And husband nature's riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others but stewards of their excellence.

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,
Though to itself it only live and die,
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity:

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

*                         *                       *

Quienes pueden hacer daño y no quieren,
y nunca hacen aquello que aparentan,
e incitan a otros, siendo como piedras
inconmovibles, fríos, no tentables,


heredan justamente el don del cielo
y ahorran las riquezas de Natura;
son señores y dueños de sus rostros;
sirvientes, los demás, de su excelencia.


Aunque para sí misma viva y muera,
dulce es a su estación la flor de estío,
mas si esa flor se infecta con lo vil
la baja hierba supera a su alto rango.


A lo más dulce lo agrian sus acciones:
podrido el lirio, peor hiede que hierbas.


William Shakespeare
(trad. Antonio Rivero Taravillo)