Milton, John: Na jeho slepotu (SONET XVI) (On His Blindness (SONNET XVI) in Slovak)

When I consider how my light is spent,
  E're half my days, in this dark world and wide,
  And that one Talent which is death to hide,
  Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
  My true account, least he returning chide,
  Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd,
  I fondly ask; But patience to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need
  Either man's work or his own gifts, who best
  Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State
Is Kingly.  Thousands at his bidding speed
  And post o're Land and Ocean without rest:
  They also serve who only stand and waite.

Keď myslím na to, ako strácam zrak,
  Pol dní mi halí temný šíry svet,
  Môj Talent, ktorý ukryje smrť hneď,
  Bol som tu márne, čakal na zázrak.
Stvoriteľ dal mi dar, no som už vrak,
  V temnotách moju ruku ďalej veď,
  Nech Božie dielo je mi odpoveď,
  Nech báseň letí voľne ako vták.
Počuť len čoraz tichší šelest viet,
  Duch – obraz Boha, večne plný krás,
  Vdýchnutá Duša, to je Boží štát,
Kráľovstvo, v ktorom verše budú znieť,
  Aj keď sa skončí vymedzený čas,
  Budeme v nebi neochvejne stáť.