Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty’s orient deep,
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
当六月过去，玫瑰凋残，
别再问我，爱神在哪里。
你的美丽是那么灿烂，
这些花儿，就在他的根部熟睡。
别再问我，是否漂泊
白天金色的阳光；
那是纯洁爱情的天空
那些粉末可以装饰你的秀发。
Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale, when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters, and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more where those stars light,
That downwards fall in dead of night;
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixed become, as in their sphere.
当五月悄然离去，
别再问我，夜莺在哪里
你那甜蜜的歌喉，
在冬季，温暖着她的音符。
别再问我，明亮的繁星，
夜晚落在哪里；
他们就在你的眼中，
固定在那里，犹如在他们的家。