retranslating a translation

Shakespeare's Sonnet 105 – retranslated
(translated from Sonetot Shekspir: Tirgum Ephraim Broyde)
(I chose to rhyme this retranslation. It's... well, pretty amazingly far from the original. I feel like someone playing "Broken Telephone," that old party game.)


My love, in truth, is not idol-worship
as it is called, nor my beloved a false god,
whose name’s praised in my songs and on my lips;
I sing for him, of him, chanson, ballade.
My love is good tomorrow, and good today,
practiced in wondrous heights of full finesse:
my songs, that never waver, yield, or sway
will, saying one thing, of a second thought dispense;
‘pleasant, good, and faithful’ are my refrain,
‘pleasant, good, faithful,’ – versions abound—
Exchanging's swallowed up my fevered brain,
All three in one—a sight on wondrous ground.
Pleasant, good, and faithful are frequently alone;
‘Tis only here they’ve sought to sit as one.

the original:
Let not my love be call'd idolatry,
Nor my beloved as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
'Fair, kind and true' is all my argument,
'Fair, kind, and true' varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
'Fair, kind, and true,' have often lived alone,
Which three till now never kept seat in one.