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A good paraphrase of any text offers a reader's interpretation of what the author of the text is saying. Based upon this, the following represents my personal paraphrase for William Shakespeare's poem "When my love swears that she is mad of truth" (Sonnet 138). (Hopefully, you can take my paraphrase of the poem and summarize it in your own way.)
When my love swears to me that she isn't lying
I believe her, even though I know she is lying,
She may think that I am too dumb to realize this,
Not educated in the world of little white lies.
So foolishly knowing that she thinks this,
And her thinking I am past my prime,
I simply accept her lies:
Therefore, we both lie.
For what reason does she say she does not lie?
And for what reason do I not say I am not old?
Oh, love's best attribute is that is appears to trust,
And age simply does not matter.
Therefore, we both lie to each other,
And our mistakes with lies allow us to deceive each other.
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