Thou art thy mother' s glass and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime; So thou though windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time. 你是母亲的镜子，从你身上， 唤回她那青春四月的芳菲； 当你皱纹布满额头，从暮年的窗子 向外眺望，便能看到自己的金色华年。