#historiazpaszkom #malarstwo #poezja
1893 "La Belle Dame sans Merci" - John William Waterhouse (1849–1917)
Mój najstrarszy obraz Waterhouse'a w folderze i chyba ulubieny z sentymentu, choć przy 120 innych jego pracach konkurencja jest mocna.
Malunek angielski na podstawie angielskiej romantycznej ballady Johna Keatsa (1795-1821 klasycznie dla romantyków - zmarł młodo na gruźlicę). Tytuł pan Keats zapożyczył ze średniowiecznego francuskiego wiersza z XV wieku w tematyce miłości dworskiej, chętnie zgłębianej przez twórców wczesnego XIX wieku.
Poniżej tekst ballady:
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"La Belle Dame sans Merci" (1819)
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing!
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
And the harvest’s done.
I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful, a fairy's child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.
I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery's song.
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna-dew,
And sure in language strange she said—
'I love thee true'.
She took me to her Elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild, wild eyes
With kisses four.
And there she lullèd me asleep,
And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.
I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried—'La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!'
I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gapèd wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill's side.
And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
