Sonnet 2

When you are old, beauty fades and you'll regret not having children to prove you were once lovely.

Original
Modern
1 When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
When forty winters shall lay siege to your face,
2 And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,
And carve deep wrinkles in your once-beautiful skin,
field: beauty as land to be cultivated or defaced
3 Thy youth’s proud livery so gazed on now,
Your youthful beauty that everyone admires today,
livery: uniform, distinctive appearance
4 Will be a tattered weed of small worth held:
Will be treated like a shabby, worthless garment,
5 Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Then when someone asks where all your beauty went,
6 Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
Where is the treasure of your vibrant youth—
7 To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,
To answer that it's somewhere in your hollowed eyes,
8 Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
Would be shameful and empty praise—
Volta The argument shifts from bleak vision of aging to the consolation that children would vindicate past beauty and provide an 'excuse' for age.
9 How much more praise deserv’d thy beauty’s use,
How much more deserving would it be if your beauty had been used,
10 If thou couldst answer ‘This fair child of mine
If you could say, 'This beautiful child of mine,
11 Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,’
Shall justify my youth and explain my aging,'
12 Proving his beauty by succession thine.
Their beauty carrying forward the proof of your own.
13 This were to be new made when thou art old,
This would be like being reborn even as you grow old,
14 And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.
To see your vital youth alive when you yourself feel the chill of age.
blood: vitality, youth; lineage
The Fear of Oblivion

Sonnet 2's power lies in its existential argument: without children, beauty becomes invisible to the future. The image of the old man who once was beautiful but has no heirs to prove it captures Shakespeare's deepest fear—that beauty, the most seemingly immortal quality, is utterly mortal without reproductive proof. Time doesn't just fade beauty; it erases the evidence that beauty ever existed.

Visual Language and Aging

The sonnet's vivid visual metaphors—sunken eyes, tattered robes, the field of beauty—make aging visceral. Shakespeare uses the language of property and decay to describe the body's transformation. This mercantile language of treasure and loss connects to the Fair Youth sequence's larger argument: the body is an asset that depreciates unless its value is invested (through procreation) in the next generation.

If this happened today

Like someone at 40 realizing their youthful photos are the only proof they were ever attractive. 'Look at my kids—they got my cheekbones' becomes the only lasting monument to beauty.