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Rampolli
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“I would not have thy father’s throne,
His crown or his golden sceptre;
I want my lovely princess alone—
From Fate that so long hath kept her.”
“That cannot be,” she said to me:
“I lie in the grave uncheerly;
And only at night I come to thee,
Because I love thee so dearly.”
LYRISCHES INTERMEZZO
XLV
In the sunny summer morning
Into the garden I come;
The flowers are whispering and talking,
But for me, I wander dumb.
The flowers are whispering and talking;
They pity my look so wan:
“Thou must not be cross with our sister,
Thou sorrowful, pale-faced man!”
LYRISCHES INTERMEZZO
LXIV
Night lay upon mine eyelids;
Upon my mouth lay lead;
With rigid brain and bosom,
I lay among the dead.
How long it was I know not
That sleep oblivion gave;
I wakened up, and, listening,
Heard a knocking at my grave.
“Tis time to rise up, Henry!
The eternal day draws on;
The dead are all arisen—
The eternal joy’s begun.”
“My love, I cannot raise me;
For I have lost my sight;
My eyes with bitter weeping
They are extinguished quite.”
“From thy dear eyelids, Henry,
I’ll kiss the night away;
Thou shalt behold the angels,
And Heaven’s superb display.”
“My love, I cannot raise me;
Still bleeds my bosom gored,
Where thou heart-deep didst stab me
With a keen-pointed word.”
“Soft I will lay it, Henry,
My hand soft on thy heart;
And that will stop its bleeding
And soothe at once the smart.”
“My love, I cannot raise me—
My head is bleeding too;
When thou wast stolen from me
I shot it through and through!”
“I with my tresses, Henry,
Will stop the fountain red;
Press back again the blood-stream,
And heal thy wounded head.”
She begged so sweetly, dearly,
I could no more say no;
I tried, I strove to raise me,
And to my darling go.
Then the wounds again burst open;
With torrent force outbrake
From head and breast the blood-stream,
And, lo, I came awake!
DIE HEIMKEHR
LX
They have company this evening,
And the house is full of light;
Up there at the shining window
Moves a shadowy form in white.
Thou seest me not—in the darkness
I stand here below, apart;
Yet less, ah less thou seest
Into my gloomy heart!
My gloomy heart it loves thee,
Loves thee in every spot:
It breaks, it bleeds, it shudders—But
His crown or his golden sceptre;
I want my lovely princess alone—
From Fate that so long hath kept her.”
“That cannot be,” she said to me:
“I lie in the grave uncheerly;
And only at night I come to thee,
Because I love thee so dearly.”
LYRISCHES INTERMEZZO
XLV
In the sunny summer morning
Into the garden I come;
The flowers are whispering and talking,
But for me, I wander dumb.
The flowers are whispering and talking;
They pity my look so wan:
“Thou must not be cross with our sister,
Thou sorrowful, pale-faced man!”
LYRISCHES INTERMEZZO
LXIV
Night lay upon mine eyelids;
Upon my mouth lay lead;
With rigid brain and bosom,
I lay among the dead.
How long it was I know not
That sleep oblivion gave;
I wakened up, and, listening,
Heard a knocking at my grave.
“Tis time to rise up, Henry!
The eternal day draws on;
The dead are all arisen—
The eternal joy’s begun.”
“My love, I cannot raise me;
For I have lost my sight;
My eyes with bitter weeping
They are extinguished quite.”
“From thy dear eyelids, Henry,
I’ll kiss the night away;
Thou shalt behold the angels,
And Heaven’s superb display.”
“My love, I cannot raise me;
Still bleeds my bosom gored,
Where thou heart-deep didst stab me
With a keen-pointed word.”
“Soft I will lay it, Henry,
My hand soft on thy heart;
And that will stop its bleeding
And soothe at once the smart.”
“My love, I cannot raise me—
My head is bleeding too;
When thou wast stolen from me
I shot it through and through!”
“I with my tresses, Henry,
Will stop the fountain red;
Press back again the blood-stream,
And heal thy wounded head.”
She begged so sweetly, dearly,
I could no more say no;
I tried, I strove to raise me,
And to my darling go.
Then the wounds again burst open;
With torrent force outbrake
From head and breast the blood-stream,
And, lo, I came awake!
DIE HEIMKEHR
LX
They have company this evening,
And the house is full of light;
Up there at the shining window
Moves a shadowy form in white.
Thou seest me not—in the darkness
I stand here below, apart;
Yet less, ah less thou seest
Into my gloomy heart!
My gloomy heart it loves thee,
Loves thee in every spot:
It breaks, it bleeds, it shudders—But
Другие электронные книги автора George MacDonald
Последний отзыв
Книгу прочитать не могу, везде ЛитРес свой нос сунул, как и где скачать полную версию бесплатно!?!?