LXXV

Please do not feel abandoned, dear English speakers. You actually get the best parts.
In the previous Hungarian post I go on rambling about my debate with my own self whether to give charity to some beggars or not. Because although I realize that many of them are liars, I still feel bad to just walk away without giving a penny; but if I give I sometimes end up feeling like I’ve been fooled.
And though as far as I’m concerned this dilemma has absolutely nothing to do with Shakespeare’s Sonnets, the last 2 lines line of the beautiful Hungarian translation of Sonnet 75. popped into my head while I was writing down my thoughts.
So here it comes:

LXXV

So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground;
And for the peace of you I hold such strife
As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found.
Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;
Now counting best to be with you alone,
Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure:
Sometime all full with feasting on your sight,
And by and by clean starved for a look;
Possessing or pursuing no delight
Save what is had, or must from you be took.
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
Or gluttoning on all, or all away.