La belle dame sans merci(Franck Dicksee)

La belle dame sans merci (Franck Dicksee)

De inima-mi puteam fi mândru tare,                                                                                                                                                                                                   Când nu era de tine-ndrăgostită;                                                                                                                                                                                                      Acum de prea-ndelungă aşteptare,                                                                                                                                                                                        Trufaşă s-a făcut şi îndârjită;

Şi schimbător mă face, nu arare:                                                                                                                                                                                                      Aprins-gelos, de gheaţă-ncremenită,                                                                                                                                                                                                Şi trec, pierdut, deşi că-s viu le pare                                                                                                                                                                                          Aşa-s de dus în lumea-nchipuită.

Ascunsă moarte port în stăpânire,                                                                                                                                                                                                     Şi inima-n atare vrăjmăşie,                                                                                                                                                                                                             Încât de bătălii mereu am parte;

Iar cel ce ştie a citi iubire                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Privească-mă şi-ncredinţat să fie                                                                                                                                                                                                       Că port înscrisă pe-a mea faţă-moarte.

Advertisements