Oh, how I wish you were yourself!
But, my love, you will only last as long as
you’re alive. (well duh)
In anticipation of your inevitable death
You should make preparations and pass on your beautiful appearance to someone else. ;)
That way, your beauty, which you’ve only
borrowed, (from nature presumably)
wouldn’t have to end.
Then, even after you died,
your beautiful body would be renewed in your children.
Who would let such a beautiful house fall
into disrepair (and by house he means body)
when prudent maintenance might make it outlast
the stormy gusts of winter and the frustrating barrenness surrounding death?
Only the most irresponsible spender could
do such a thing, you know, my dear love.
You had a father—let your son say so.
O none but unthrifts, dear my love you know
You had a father-let your son say so
Now you can read Shakespeare!
