Ask me no more where Jove bestows¹,

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 downwards² fall in dead of night;

For in your eyes they sit, and there

Fixed³ 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。